THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I 


FRONTISPIECE. 


PAINSTAKING. 


BY  THE   AUTHOR   OF    "EDWARD   CLIFFORD,"    "HENRY 
WILLARD,"   ETC. 


NEW-YORK: 

ANSON    D.    F.    RANDOLPH,    683    BROADWAY. 
1860. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S59,  by 
ANSON    D.    F.     RANDOLPH, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New-York. 


JOHN   A.  GRAY, 

PRINTER  &  STEREOTYPE*, 

16  and  18  Jacob  St. 


A I  Pit 


CONTENTS. 


FAGS 

I. — THE  LETTER, 5 

II. — SELF-DENYING  AFFECTION,      .  12 

III.— LEAVING  HOME, 20 

IV. — THE  NEW  ARITHMETIC,  .         .         .         .        30 

V. — LITTLE  SAMMY, 41 

VL— PAYING  A  DEBT, 55 

VII.— YOUTHFUL  DREAMS, 70 

VIII. — FAITHFUL  INSTRUCTION,  .  .84 

IX. — THE  PRAYER-MEETING,       .        .        .        .96 


622783 


PAINSTAKING. 


THE   LETTER. 

"0  FATHER!  I've  something  to  show  you," 
said  little  Sammy  Ford,  as  his  father  came  in 
from  his  day's  labor,  and  seated  himself  di- 
rectly in  front  of  the  bright  wood  fire,  which 
was  burning  in  the  open  fire-place. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  Look  here,  papa,"  said  Sammy,  holding  a 
small  slate  up  before  his  father's  face.  "  What 
does  that  look  like  ?  Don't  it  look  just  like 
pussy  ?" 

"  Ha !  madam  pussy,  is  it  ?"  said  his  father 
evasively ;  for  he  did  not  like  to  disappoint 
1* 


o  PAINSTAKING. 

his  little  son  by  admitting  that  he  could  trace 
no  manner  of  resemblance  between  the  figure 
on  the  slate  and  the  tabby  cat,  asleep  on  the 
rug  before  the  fire. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sammy  eagerly ;  "  don't  you 
see  her  four  feet,  one — two — three — four  ?  and 
don't  you  see  her  nose  ?" 

Before  Mr.  Ford  had  time  to  decide  whether 
the  mark  pointed  out  by  Sammy  could,  by 
any  stretch  of  imagination,  be  supposed  to  re- 
semble pussy's  nose,  the  door  was  suddenly 
opened,  and  two  stout  boys  entered  the  room. 

"  Father,"  said  the  elder  of  the  two  boys, 
"  here  is  a  letter  directed  to  you,  which  we 
took  from  the  post-office  to-night.  We  have 
been  studying  upon  it  all  the  way  home." 

"  You  surely  did  not  open  it  ?"  said  Mr. 
Ford. 

"  Oh  !  no,  father.  We  would  not  do  such 
a  thing  as  that.  It  was  the  outside  we  stud- 
ied," said  Isaac. 

"  It  is  written  by  a  boy,"  said  Jonas,  the 
younger  of  the  boys ;  "  that's  what  excited 


PAINSTAKING.  7 

our  curiosity.  It's  a  boy's  handwriting  ;  but 
we  can't  make  out  the  post-mark.  Here  is 
the  letter." 

"  It  is  from  C.,"  said  Mr.  Ford,  after  he  had 
examined  it. 

"  Then  it  must  be  from  Cousin  Giles,"  said 
Jonas.  "It  is  queer  that  he  should  write  to 
father." 

"  What  is  there  queer  about  it  ?"  inquired 
Mr.  Ford. 

"  "Why,  Giles  is  no  older  than  I  am." 

"Don't  you  suppose  you  could  write  «,  letter 
if  you  tried  ?" 

"  I  suppose  I  could  if  I  tried  hard  enough ; 
but  I  should  have  to  take  a  great  deal  of  pains 
to  make  it  look  like  that." 

"  That  is  very  true,"  said  Mr.  Ford.  "  No 
boy  of  eleven  can  direct  a  letter  like  that  with- 
out taking  pains  for  it.  So  even  the  outside 
of  this  letter  tells  us  at  least  one  thing  about 
your  cousin  Giles  ;  it  informs  us  that  he  is  a 
boy  who  is  not  afraid  of  painstaking.  That 
is  something  in  his  favor,  is  it  not  ?" 


8  PAINSTAKING. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Jonas,  blushing  a  little. 
Perhaps  he  thought  a  covert  reproof  for  him- 
self was  lurking  in  this  commendation  of  his 
cousin. 

"  If  we  have  sufficiently  discussed  the  out- 
side of  the  letter,  we  will  open  it,"  said  Mr. 
Ford. 

"  Please,  father,  read  it  to  us,"  said  Lucy 
after  her  father  had  opened  the  letter. 

"  Presently,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Ford. 

Lucy  Ford,  though  only  fifteen,  was  a  con- 
firmed invalid.  Her  large  easy-chair  occupied 
the  coziest  corner  of  the  fireplace,  and  she 
was  now  reclining  therein,  supported  by  pil- 
lows. 

"  I  suppose  you  all  want  to  hear  it,"  said 
Mr.  Ford,  after  running  his  eye  over  the  letter. 

"  Yes,  father,"  cried  two  or  three  voices  at 
once. 

"  Well,  listen  then :" 

"DEAR  UNCLE  JONAS:  Mother  has  re- 
ceived your  kind  letter,  and  wishes  me  to  an- 


PAINSTAKING.  \) 

swer  it.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  make  very  awk 
ward  work,  as  I  have  never  written  a  letter 
except  to  my  schoolmates.  But  I  will  try  to 
do  my  best,  for  I  always  mean  to  do  what 
mother  wishes.  She  thinks  you  are  very 
kind  to  offer  to  let  me  live  with  you  this  win- 
ter, and  go  to  school  with  Isaac  and  Jonas, 
and  I  think  so  too.  She  says  I  may  go,  and 
I  am  very  glad  of  it.  We  do  not  have  any 
good  school  here.  Some  of  the  boys  have 
gone  out  of  town  to  school.  I  almost  envied 
them.  I  did  not  think  I  was  going  too.  I 
am  very  glad  indeed,  though  I  shall  be  sorry 
to  leave  mother,  and  Mary,  and  Lizzie. 
Mother  says  I  must  thank  you  very  much  for 
your  kind  offer.  I  am  sure  I  do  thank  you. 
"  I  shall  go  one  week  from  to-morrow. 
Mr.  Mason,  our  nearest  neighbor,  is  going  to 
D.,  and  has  offered  to  take  me  there.  If  we 
start  early,  we  can  get  there  by  ten  o'clock, 
time  enough  to  take  the  stage,  which  I  sup- 
pose will  leave  me  at  your  house  about  dark. 
I  shall  try  to  be  a  good  boy,  and  not  make 


10  PAINSTAKING. 

you  much  trouble.     Give  my  love  to  Aunt 
Mary,  Lucy,  Isaac,  Jonas,  and  little  Sammy. 
"  Your  affectionate  nephew, 
"  GILES  DENNEY." 

Mr.  Ford  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  in- 
attentive auditors  while  reading  this  letter. 

"  So  Giles  is  coming  here  to  go  to  school 
with  us,"  said  Isaac.  "  That's  capital." 

"  It's  first  rate,"  said  Jonas. 

"  I'm  glad  he  is  coming,"  said  Lucy. 

"  You  will  have  one  more  noisy  boy  to 
make  your  head  ache."  said  Mrs.  Ford. 

"And  one  more  to  love,"  replied  Lucy  with 
a  pleasant  smile. 

"  I  believe  your  heart  is  large  enough  to 
hold  our  house  full,"  said  her  father  looking 
fondly  upon  her. 

"  I  wonder  if  Giles  can  help  us  make  our 
boats  and  mend  our  sleds,"  said  Isaac. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  is  a  good  skater,"  said 
Jonas. 

"  And  I  wonder,"  said  Lucy  with  a  smile, 


PAINSTAKING.  11 

"  if  he  can  sometimes  be  quiet  for  half  an 
hour,  and  read  to  me." 

"  What  a  world  of  wonders  has  been 
created  by  the  outside  and  inside  of  this 
wonderful  letter,"  said  Mr.  Ford,  much 
amused  by  the  excitement  it  had  caused. 

"If  he  would  wait  another  year,"  said 
Isaac,  "  he  might  come  more  than  half  the 
way  on  the  new  railroad." 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  him  wait  so 
long,"  said  Jonas. 

"  So  should  I,"  said  Isaac. 


12  PAINSTAKING. 

II. 

SELF-DENYING  AFFECTION. 

THE  receipt  of  Mr.  Ford's  letter  was  an 
event  of  great  interest  in  the  family  of  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Denney. 

1  i  It  is  from  your  Uncle  Ford,  and  contains 
a  very  kind  offer  for  your  benefit,"  said  Mrs. 
Denney,  addressing  Giles  after  perusing  the 
letter. 

"What  is  it,  mother?"  inquired  Giles 
eagerly. 

"  Your  uncle  has  given  you  an  invitation 
to  spend  the  winter  with  him,  and  go  to 
school  with  your  cousins,  who  enjoy  the 
privilege  of  attending  a  most  excellent 
school." 

"Oh!  that's  good,"  said  Giles.  "You 
will  let  me  go,  won't  you?" 

"  And  leave  mother,  and  Mary,  and  me," 
said  Lizzie  half-reproachfully. 


PAINSTAKING.  13 

Lizzie  was  Giles's  youngest  sister,  some 
years  younger  than  himself. 

"  I  don't  want  to  leave  you,"  said  Giles ; 
"  but  I  want  to  go  to  a  good  school,  where 
I  can  learn  a  great  deal." 

"  And  we  want  he  should,  don't  we,  Liz- 
zie?" said  Mary  cheerfully.  Mary  was  Giles's 
eldest  sister,  four  years  older  than  he.  "  We 
want  him  to  learn  ever  so  many  things,  so 
that  one  day  we  may  be  proud  to  call  him 
our  brother." 

"  Who  will  bring  in  the  wood  and  chips 
for  mother  ?"  said  Lizzie. 

"  You  and  I  can  do  that,"  said  Mary. 

"  But  who  will  milk  the  cow  ?"  said  Liz- 
zie. 

"  I  can  milk  the  cow  myself,"  said  Mary. 
"  I  know  how  to  milk." 

"You  are  a  darling  sister,"  said  Giles, 
struck  with  the  sisterly,  self-sacrificing  affec- 
tion with  which  Mary  was  forwarding  the 
plan  of  his  going  to  his  uncle's. 

"I  think  we  can  manage  these  matters," 


14:  PAINSTAKING. 

said  Mrs.  Denney.  "  But  there  is  a  more 
serious  obstacle  in  the  way." 

The  obstacle  referred  to  by  Mrs.  Denney, 
was  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  even  the  small 
sum  of  money  required  for  Giles's  outfit. 
Mrs.  Denney  and  Mary  supported  themselves 
by  sewing.  Most  of  the  work  done  by  them 
was  furnished  by  a  merchant  in  the  village, 
who  paid  them  in  goods  from  his  store.  All 
the  money  they  could  obtain  was  required  to 
meet  unavoidable  expenses.  Xjiles  would 
need  at  least  five  dollars,  for  the  expenses  of 
his  journey,  and  the  purchase  of  books  and 
other  articles  that  could  not  be  obtained  at 
the  village  store.  The  subject  was  discussed, 
in  all  its  bearings,  in  the  little  family  council 
that  evening,  but  no  satisfactory  result  was 
reached. 

The  next  day  Mary  sat  sewing  and  think- 
ing. At  last  after  a  long  silence,  she  looked 
up  suddenly,  and  said :  "  Mother,  I  have  it 
all  planned,  and  Giles  can  go.  You  know  I 
have  five  dollars,  and  he  shall  have  that." 


PAINSTAKING.  JL5 

"I  know  you  have  five  dollars,"  replied 
her  mother;  "and  I  know,  too,  that  you 
have  been  earning  and  saving  it  for  a  whole 
year  to  purchase  a  shawl,  on  which  you  have 
set  your  heart,  and  which,  indeed,  you  very 
much  need.  Are  you  sure  you  will  not 
repent  of  it,  if  you  give  up  this  money  to 
Giles  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  quite  sure  of  it.  I  had 
rather  wait  another  year  for  my  shawl,  than 
that  Giles  should  lose  such  an  opportunity  to 
attend  a  good  school." 

Giles  knew  the  history  of  Mary's  five 
dollars.  He  knew  how  diligently  she  had 
worked  whenever  she  could  find  a  chance 
to  earn  a  little  money,  and  he  knew,  too, 
that  the  image  of  that  shawl,  so  bright,  warm, 
and  handsome,  had  been  before  her  mind's 
eye  all  the  past  year.  Though  he  wanted 
so  much  to  go  to  his  uncle's,  he  was  not  sel- 
fish enough  to  feel  willing  to  take  his  sister's 
hard  earnings. 


16  PAINSTAKING. 

"It  is  too  much  for  you  to  give  up  that 
money,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  do  for  you/'  said 
Mary.  "  Are  you  not  my  only,  my  darling 
brother?" 

"  I  wonder  if  any  other  boy  ever  had 
such  a  sister?"  said  Giles,  embracing  and 
kissing  her. 

"You  will  be  a  good  boy,  won't  you, 
Giles?"  said  his  sister,  returning  his  em- 
brace ;  "  so  that  I  may,  one  day,  be  proud 
and  happy  to  call  you  my  brother." 

"I  will  try,  that  I  will,"  said  Giles. 

Mrs.  Denney  gave  her  consent,  though 
with  some  reluctance,  to  this  appropriation 
of  Mary's  money,  and  preparations  for  Giles's 
departure  were  immediately  commenced. 

"  Mary  and  I  will  be  very  busy  now  that 
we  have  decided  to  have  you  go,"  said  Mrs. 
Denney  to  Giles  that  evening ;  "  and  you 
will  have  to  answer  your  uncle's  letter." 

This  seemed  to  Giles  a  formidable  task, 


PAINSTAKING.  17 

but  though  he  would  gladly  have  been  ex- 
cused, he  resolved  to  try  and  do  his  best. 

"Now,  mother,"  said  he,  after  he  had 
written  the  letter,  "  if  you  will  tell  me  where 
it  needs  correction,  I  will  write  another  copy, 
and  make  it  as  perfect  as  I  can." 

His  mother  complied  with  his  request,  and 
Giles  re-wrote  his  letter,  taking  great  pains  to 
make  it  correct  and  legible. 

"Now,  mother,  you  will  direct  it  for  me, 
will  you  not  ?"  he  asked  when  it  was  finished 
and  folded. 

"ISTo,  my  son,  a  little  more  painstaking 
will  enable  you  to  do  that.  When  you  get 
to  H.,  you  will  have  to  write  letters  home, 
and  will  wish  to  be  able  to  direct  them  your- 
self. Courage,  my  boy,  one  more  effort,  and 
the  last  difficulty  will  be  surmounted.  I  will 
give  you  a  piece  of  white  paper  which  you 
can  cut  into  six  slips,  of  the  size  of  your 
folded  letter.  After  writing  your  uncle's  ad- 
dress on  each  of  these,  you  will  be  able  to 
direct  the  letter  correctly." 


18  PAINSTAKING. 

Giles  followed  this  direction.  On  the  firs-t 
slip,  his  uncle's  name  was  written  too  near 
the  top,  and  so  much  space  was  left  between 
that  and  the  name  of  the  town,  as  to  give  the 
address  a  very  awkward  appearance.  In  the 
next  attempt  this  error  was  corrected,  and 
another  was  made  in  its  stead.  His  uncle's 
name  was  not  written  in  a  straight  line,  but, 
'  as  Mary  expressed  it,  ran  up  hill.  The  next 
time  it  ran  down  hill.  The  fourth  attempt 
was  more  successful,  and  the  last  was  very 
well  done.  And  so  with  much  painstaking 
the  letter  was  finished,  which  elicited  so  many 
comments  flattering  to  the  writer. 

There  were  new  clothes  to  be  made  and 
old  clothes  to  be  mended;  but  Mrs.  Denney 
and  Mary  were  very  Diligent,  and  all  the 
preparations  for  Giles's  departure  were  com- 
pleted at  an  early  hour  the  evening  previous 
to  his  leaving  home.  Giles  often  thought  of 
that  evening  in  after  years,  and  of  the  kind 
maternal  and  Christian  counsel  he  then  re- 
ceived. 


PAINSTAKING.  19 

Mrs.  Denney,  in  this  parting  hour,  first 
reminded  her  son  of  his  duties  to  God  and 
his  own  soul.  Next,  she  pointed  out  his  ob- 
ligations to  improve  to  the  utmost  the  advan- 
tages he  would  now  enjoy,  and  to  show  his 
gratitude  to  his  uncle  by  rendering  himself 
agreeable  and  useful  to  every  member  of  the 
family.  "  You  may  often  assist  your  aunt," 
she  said;  "by  amusing  little  Sammy,  and 
keeping  him  quiet  when  disposed  to  be  noisy, 
and  no  doubt  you  can  find  many  ways  to  be 
of  service  to  Lucy,  your  sick  cousin.  But 
remember  all  this  will  require  painstaking,  so 
that  you  will  need  more  than  ever  the  motto 
I  have  given  you,  Never  be  afraid  of  pains- 
taking" 


20  PAINSTAKING. 


III. 
LEAVING    HOME. 

THE  family  rose  at  a  very  early  hour  the 
next  morning,  as  five  o'clock  was  the  time 
agreed  upon  for  Mr.  Mason  and  Giles  to  start 
on  their  journey. 

Giles  felt  some  sadness  at  parting  with  his 
mother  and  sisters ;  but  this  was  soon  dispell- 
ed by  bright,  boyish  anticipations  of  the 
future,  and  he  talked  gayly  with  his  kind 
neighbor,  as  they  rode  along.  They  reached 
D.  in  time,  and  at  ten  o'clock  Giles  was 
seated  in  the  stage  which  was  to  convey  him 
to  his  uncle's  house. 

There  were  four  passengers  besides  Giles. 
On  the  back  seat  were  a  middle-aged  lady  and 
a  young  Irish  girl.  Two  gentlemen  occupied 
the  front  seat.  Giles  took  the  middle  seat, 
opposite  the  elder  of  the  two  gentlemen. 

The  passengers  on  the  forward  seat  soon 


PAINSTAKING.  21 

fell  into  conversation  on  a  variety  of  subjects, 
such  as  the  weather,  the  crops,  the  aspect  of 
business,  the  dullness  of  stage  travelling,  the 
prospect  that  it  would  soon  be  superseded  by 
railroads,  and  various  other  matters.  To 
some  of  these  topics  Giles  listened  with  inter- 
est, but  as  the  conversation  was  protracted, 
and  as  much  was  said  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand, he  at  last  began  to  find  the  position  of 
listener  rather  a  dull  one.  The  interest  of 
the  travellers  too  seemed  to  flag,  for  the  con- 
versation became  less  animated,  and  at  last 
ceased  altogether. 

After  a  general  silence  of  some  fifteen 
minutes,  it  seemed  to  occur  to  the  elder  of  the 
gentlemen  to  vary  the  monotony  of  the  ride, 
by  starting  a  colloquy  with  his  young  fellow- 
traveller,  of  whom  he  had  hitherto  taken  no 
notice. 

u  You  seem  to  be  travelling  alone,  my  lad," 
he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Giles,  really  glad  to  hear 


22  :jA.:.\bT\KT^c- 

the  sound  of  Lis  own  voice  one/  more,  after  a 
silence  of  such  unusual  length. 

"Are  you  going  through  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  am  going  to  H.  to  live  with 
my  uncle  this  winter,  and  go  to  school  with 
my  cousins,"  replied  Giles,  very  willing  to  be 
communicative. 

"  Is  this  the  first  of  your  leaving  home?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  How  old  are  you,  my  lad?" 

"  I  am  eleven,  sir." 

"  Just  the  age  I  was  when  I  went  to  the 
city  to  seek  my  fortune." 

"  To  seek  it,  or  make  it  ?"  said  the  other 
gentleman. 

"  I  mean  make  it.  It's  my  creed,  that  every 
man  makes  his  own  fortune.  I  went  to  the 
city,  as  I  have  said,  when  I  was  eleven.  My 
father  was  a  poor  man,  on  a  poor  farm  in 
Connecticut.  He  could  give  me  nothing  but 
his  blessing,  and  this  one  piece  of  advice  : 
*  Kemember,  my  boy,  that  what  is  worth  do- 


PAINSTAKING.  23 

ing  at  all  is  worth  doing  well.  "Whatever  you 
find  to  do,  be  sure  you  do  it  just  as  well  as 
you  are  capable  of  doing  it.'  " 

"As  this  piece  of  advice  was  all  my  fathei* 
had  to  bestow  upon  me,  I  suppose  I  thought 
I  must  make  the  most  of  it.  At  all  events,  I 
did  make  the  most  of  it.  I  entered  a  store  as 
errand-boy.  "Whatever  I  was  set  to  do,  I  did 
just  as  well  as  I  knew  how.  So  I  went  on 
for  a  year,  without  seeing  any  special  good 
come  of  my  painstaking.  At  the  end  of  this 
time  my  master  failed.  I  thought  it  was  all 
up  with  me,  and  I  should  have  to  go  back  to 
the  scrub-oak  farm,  as  I  knew  of  no  one  who 
wanted  me.  But  now  I  found  the  benefit  of 
following  my  father's  advice.  A  merchant, 
whose  store  was  near  my  master's,  had  watch- 
ed my  course,  and  been  pleased  with  it. 
'  George,'  said  he  to  me  one  day,  *  I  have 
taken  notice  of  you  since  you  have  been  with 
Mr.  1ST.,  and  have  observed  that  every  thing 
you  undertake  is  well  done.  You  are  just 
such  a  boy  as  I  want,  and  you  may  come  into 


2-i  PAINSTAKING. 

my  store,  if  you  like.'  I  was  delighted,  the 
situation  was  much  better  than  the  one  of  which 
I  had  been  deprived.  From  that  time  I  went 
straight  ahead  till  my  fortune  was  made." 

"  That  makes  me  think  of  the  motto  mother 
has  given  me,"  said  Giles  modestly. 

"What  is  it,  my  lad?  I  should  like  to 
hear  it,"  said  the  gentleman  with  an  encour- 
aging smile. 

"It  is,  '  Never  be  afraid  of  painstaking,'" 
replied  Giles. 

"A  capital  rule,  my  boy,  a  capital  rule.  Be 
sure  you  follow  it,  and  it  will  be  the  making 
of  you.  Many  boys  think  a  fortune  will 
come  to  them  some  day ;  but  it  never  will. 
I  went  to  the  city  with  only  one  dollar  in  my 
pocket,  but  I  have  now  added  five  ciphers  to 
it.  Do  you  know  what  that  means  ?" 

Giles  looked  a  little  puzzled,  and  the  gen- 
tleman varied  the  question. 

•"  If  you  put  five  ciphers  on  the  right  hand 
•.of  the  unit  one,  do  you  know  what  the  sum 
will  be?"  he  asked. 


PAINSTAKING.  25 

"  One  hundred  thousand  dollars,"  replied 
Giles  promptly. 

"  Eight,  my  boy,"  said  the  gentleman 
smiling. 

Giles  thought  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
a  great  sum.  How  long  it  took  his  sister  to 
earn  five  dollars ;  but  there  must  be  a  great 
many  five  dollars  in  a  hundred  thousand.  It 
would  take  a  long  time  to  count  them.  If  he 
had  ten  dollars,  he  should  think  himself  rich. 
He  would  give  back  to  Mary  her  five  dollars, 
and  the  five  remaining  would  be  an  almost 
inexhaustible  sum  for  his  own  use. 

"  You  seem  in  a  deep  study,"  said  the  gen- 
tleman, observing  his  abstracted  air. 

"  I  was  thinking  how  much  money  there 
must  be  in  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,"  said 
Giles,  blushing  a  little. 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  as  much  some 
day?"  inquired  the  gentleman. 

"Indeed  I  should,"  said  Giles. 

"Perhaps  you  will.    I  dare  say  you  are 
not  any  poorer  than  I  was  when  I  started." 
3 


26  PAINSTAKING. 

"Not  so  poor,"  said  Giles  with  boyish 
frankness.  "  I  have  two  dollars." 

Both  the  gentlemen  smiled,  and  the  weal- 
thy merchant  replied :  "  Who  knows  but  you 
will  make  it  two  hundred  thousand  yet,  if  you 
only  follow  your  mother's  rule  ?  Don't  spare 
the  painstaking.  Whatever  you  do,  take 
pains  to  do  it  as  well  as  you  possibly  can. 
Don't  miss  of  earning  even  a  penny  for  the 
want  of  taking  pains  for  it,  and  when  you 
have  earned  it,  take  care  of  it ;  don't  spend  it 
foolishly.  Will  you  remember  this  advice  ?" 

"  I  will  remember  it,"  said  Giles,  his  an- 
imated countenance  expressing  the  interest  he 
felt  in  the  conversation. 

"  This  gentleman  has  been  giving  you  some 
very  good  advice,  so  far  as  it  goes,"  said  the 
gentleman  in  the  opposite  corner,  "but  will 
you  allow  me  to  add  to  it  a  word  or  two  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Giles. 

"  Well,  my  boy,  he  has  been  telling  you 
how  to  get  money.  I  don't  object  to  that ; 
for  money  is  a  very  good  and  necessary  thing 


PAINSTAKING.  27 

in  its  place ;  but  there  is  a  book  which  tells 
us  of  something  more  precious  than  money, 
which  can  not  be  gotten  for  gold  or  silver, 
and  whose  price  is  above  that  of  rubies  or 
pearls.  Do  you  know  what  book  it  is  that 
tells  us  of  this  precious  thing  ?" 
'  "  Yes,  sir,"  said  Giles.  "It  is  the  Bible. 
I  read  that  chapter  to  mother  last  Sabbath 
evening.  It  is  in  the  book  of  Job,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  It  is.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  know  so 
much  about  the  Bible.  Have  you  a  Bible  ?'? 

"Yes,  sir;  mother  gave  me  one  as  a  part- 
ing gift  last  evening." 

"Did  you  promise  to  read  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  promised  to  read  it  every 
day." 

"Do  you  know  what  it  is  that  the  Bible 
declares  to  be  more  precious  than  gold,  or 
pearls,  or  rubies  ?" 

"Yes,  sir;  mother  said  it  was  the  fear  and 
favor  of  God." 

"Don't  you  think  we  ought  to  take  the 


28  PAINSTAKING. 

greatest  pains  to  obtain  that  which  is  of  most 
value?" 

"I  should  think  so." 

"  Now  for  my  advice.  Take  all  the  pains 
you  will  to  secure  every  thing  valuable  that 
comes  in  your  way  ;  but  be  sure  you  take  the 
greatest  pains  to  secure  the  best  things.  As 
God's  favor  and  blessing  is  more  valuable 
than  any  thing  beside,  we  should  take  the 
greatest  pains  to  secure  it.  Never  spare  any 
pains  to  understand  your  duty,  and  to  do  it. 
Seek  what  you  will  that  is  lawful  and  right, 
but  be  sure  you  obey  the  direction  to  seek 
first  '  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteous- 
ness.' My  advice  may  all  be  comprehended 
in  one  sentence.  Be  sure  you  take  the  great- 
est pains  to  seek  the  best  things." 

After  some  farther  conversation,  the  occu- 
pants of  the  stage-coach  relapsed  into  silence, 
and  little  more  was  said  until  they  reached  H. 

Giles  was  very  glad  to  reach  his  journey's 
end,  where  a  warm  welcome  awaited  him 
from  his  uncle,  aunt,  and  cousins. 


PAINSTAKING.  29 

The  next  day  being  Saturday,  was  a  holi- 
day, and  his  lively  cousins  so  filled  the  day 
with  merry  sports,  that  Giles  had  no  time  for 
home-sickness,  or  hardly  to  think  of  home. 


3« 


30  PAINSTAKING. 

IY. 

THE  NEW  ARITHMETIC. 

THE  first  thing  purchased  by  Giles  with 
his  remaining  two  dollars  was  an  arithmetic. 

As  he  was  carefully  turning  over  its  leaves, 
Jonas  said  to  him:  "You  need  not  be  so 
pleased  with  your  new  book.  I  can  tell  you 
it  is  real  hard.  I  am  no  prophet,  if  you 
don't  hate  the  sight  of  it  in  three  weeks." 

"  Hate  the  sight  of  my  new  book  in  three 
weeks !"  exclaimed  Giles  half-indignantly.  "  I 
know  I  shan't  do  that." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  it.  I  know  I  hate 
the  sight  of  mine.  It  is  one  thing  to  turn 
over  its  leaves,  and  quite  another  thing  to 
do  the  sums.  However,  if  you  get  into 
trouble,  you  must  ask  Isaac  to  help  you  out. 
That's  the  way  I  do." 

It  did  not  occur  to  Giles  that  this  might 
be  the  true  cause  of  Jonas's  dislike  to  his 
arithmetic. 


PAINSTAKING.  31 

At  the  end  of  the  first  two  weeks  there 
seemed  a  strong  probability  that  the  pro- 
phecy of  Jonas  would  be  fulfilled.  Giles 
found  his  new  arithmetic  much  more  difficult 
than  the  one  he  had  previously  studied. 

"  Can  you  do  this  sum  ?"  he  inquired  of 
Jonas  on  the  third  day  of  his  possession  of 
the  book.  "  I  can't." 

"  Yes ;  Isaac  showed  me  how  to  do  it,  and 
I  will  show  you,"  said  the  easy,  good-tem- 
pered Jonas,  who  was  usually  ready  to  do 
any  one  a  favor,  if  it  did  not  cost  him  too 
much  trouble. 

The  next  day  Giles  found  three  sums  he 
could  not  do,  instead  of  one ;  and  the  next 
six  instead  of  three.  On  these  occasions 
Jonas  was  his  ready  resource.  He  usually 
found  that  he  had  previously  applied  for 
assistance  to  his  teacher,  or  Isaac,  or  some 
one  else,  and  the  knowledge  so  easily  acquired 
was  readily  communicated  to  Giles.  It  must 
not  be  supposed  that  Jonas  was  able  to  give 
to  Giles  an  intelligent  explanation  of  the 


32  PAINSTAKING. 

manner  of  working  out  the  problem.  This 
can  seldom  be  done  by  a  boy  who  has  not 
worked  it  out  for  himself.  Having  been  told 
how  to  do  it  by  his  teacher  or  brother,  he 
would  leave  it  upon  his  slate  till  Giles  ap- 
plied for  assistance,  and  then  pass  it  over  to 
him  for  examination. 

Thus  it  went  on  for  three  weeks,  at  the 
end  of 'which  time  Giles  was  quite  ready  to 
pronounce  his  new  arithmetic  a  perfect  bore. 
He.  always  sat  down  to  his  lesson  with  reluc- 
tance, and  arose  from  it  with  disgust,  because 
he  always  left  it  with  the  uncomfortable  feel- 
ing of  having  attempted  what  he  had  failed 
to  accomplish.  He  thoroughly  disliked  his 
arithmetic  because  it  had  conquered  him. 
Instead  of  gaining,  he  was  losing  ground. 
Every  day  the  list  of  sums  he  could  not  do 
without  help  grew  longer,  and  the  sense  of 
helpless  dependence  grew  more  irksome. 

One  evening,  when  he  had  taken  his  arith- 
metic home  with  him,  as  he  was  about  to 
make  the  usual  application  to  Jonas  for  as- 


PAINSTAKING.  33 

sistance,  lie  thought  of  the  advice  nis  motlier 
had  once  given  him,  which  was,  never  to  ask 
his  teacher  or  any  one  else  to  show  him  how 
to  do  a  sum  till  he  had  first  tried  his  best  to 
help  himself  out  of  the  difficulty.  He  had 
not  followed  this  advice.  He  had  been  too 
must  afraid  of  painstaking. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  thought  Giles. 
"  How  often  has  mother  told  me  that  I  shall 
find  difficulties  every  where,  which  can  only 
be  overcome  by  painstaking,  and  that,  if  I 
let  these  difficulties  conquer  me,  instead  of 
conquering  them,  I  never  shall  get  on  in  the 
world.  I  wonder  if  I  could  conquer  my 
arithmetic  by  painstaking.  I  am  resolved  to 
try.  I  won't  ask  Jonas  about  this  sum 
tQ-night.  If  I  can  find  out  myself  how  to 
do  it,  here  are  a  dozen  more,  very  much  like 
it,  that  I  can  easily  do.  I  will  try  one  hour, 
before  I  ask  any  one  to  help  me." 

Giles  kept  his  resolution,  but  at  the  end 
of  an  hour,  he  had  not  obtained  the  right 


34:  PAINSTAKING. 

answer.  He  was  strongly  tempted  to  seek 
the  assistance  of  Jonas;  reasoning  that  he 
had  now  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains.  But 
he  could  not  satisfy  himself  that  he  had  done 
all  in  his  power.  He  would  have  half  an 
hour  for  study  before  school  in  the  morning, 
and  would  then  be  fresh  and  bright.  In  that 
half-hour  he  might  be  able  to  conquer  the 
difficulty.  If  he  did  not,  he  would  at  least 
have  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  he  had  done 
all  he  could  ;  for  his  other  lessons  would  not 
allow  of  his  spending  more  time  on  that  sum. 
He  therefore  determined  to  try  it  again  in 
the  morning. 

Jonas  was  his  bed-fellow,  and  he  was 
awakened  by  him  the  next  morning. 

"  Wake  up,  Giles,"  said  Jonas.  "  Do  you 
know  that  it  has  been  snowing  all  night? 
The  snow  must  be  a  foot  deep/' 

"That's  good!  Glad  to  hear  it,"  said 
Giles. 

"  You  know  how  to  snow-ball  a  fellow, 
don't  y ou  ?"  said  Jonas. 


PAINSTAKING.  35 

*'  You  will  find  out  that  I  do  before  win- 
ter is  over,"  replied  Giles  laughing. 

"And  do  you  know  how  to  make  snow 
men,  and  snow  forts,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing?" 

"  I  know  as  much  about  snow,  and  what 
to  do  with  it,  as  any  other  boy,"  replied 
Giles.  "  I  am  glad  it  has  come." 

"  So  am  I.  We  will  have  glorious  fun. 
Come,  let's  get  up.  Mother  said  she  should 
have  breakfast  early  this  morning.  We  shall 
have  three  quarters  of  an  hour  to  play  before 
school." 

Giles  began  to  dress  himself,  not  less  ani- 
mated than  his  cousin  with  the  prospect  of 
the  sport  before  them.  But  his  anticipations 
for  that  morning  were  suddenly  dampened 
by  the  recollection  of  his  arithmetic  lesson, 
and  his  resolution  of  the  previous  evening. 
He  was  greatly  tempted  to  give  up  all 
thoughts  of  the  half-hour  of  study ;  but  he 
now  recollected  what  his  mother  had  said  to 
him  the  evening  before  he  left  home.  "  My 


36  PAINSTAKING. 

dear  boy,"  she  said :  "  if  you  would  not  dis- 
appoint all  the  fond  hopes  of  your  mother 
and  sister,  never  neglect  duty  for  pleasure. 
Love  play  as  much  as  you  will,  but  never 
let  it  interfere  with  duty."  After  a  short 
but  brave  struggle,  Giles  decided  in  favor  of 
duty. 

After  breakfast  Isaac  and  Jonas  hastened 
out  of  the  house,  too  eager  for  their  antici- 
pated sport  to  observe  that  Giles  did  not 
follow  them.  He  quietly  sat  down  to  his 
arithmetic  and  slate,  not,  however,  without  a 
sigh  for  the  pleasure  he  had  relinquished. 
By  a  determined  effort  he  was  soon  able  to 
fix  his  mind  upon  his  book. 

After  about  ten  minutes  he  was  interrupted 
by  the  entrance  of  Jonas, 

"  What  are  you  about,  Giles  ?3J  he  said. 
"  Come  along.  We  are  having  glorious 
fan." 

"  I  can't  come  till  I  have  found  out  how 
to  do  this  sum,"  said  Giles, 


PAINSTAKING.  37 

"  Nonsense !  you  are  crazy  to  be  poring 
over  that  hateful  arithmetic.  Come  along." 

Giles  good-humoredly  but  firmly  declined. 

"Let  me  see  the  sum,"  said  Jonas,  ap- 
proaching him,  and  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der. "  Which  is  it?" 

Giles  pointed  it  out. 

"Isaac  showed  me  how  to  do  that  sum 
yesterday  afternoon,"  said  Jonas.  "It  is  on 
my  slate  at  school.  I  will  show  it  to  you 
when  we  get  there." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Giles ;  "  but  I  want  to 
find  out  how  to  do  it  myself." 

"  Nonsense  I  what's  the  difference,  if  you 
only  find  out  ?" 

"  If  I  find  it  out  myself,  I  shall  understand 
it  better,  and  know  how  to  do  the  next. 
Now  please  go  away,  and  don't  hinder  me. 
That's  a  good  boy.  I'll  come  when  I  have 
done  my  sum." 

"  That  will  be  too  late.  It  will  be  school- 
time,"  said  Jonas. 


38  PAINSTAKING. 

"  Then  I  will  come  to-night.  I  fancy  the 
snow  will  not  all  be  gone  by  that  time." 

Finding  that  Giles  could  not  be  persuaded, 
Jonas  left  him  to  his  task.  After  carefully 
reading  over  the  rule  and  the  explanation 
for  the  twentieth  time,  a  new  light  gleamed 
upon  his  mind,  and  he  thought  he  under- 
stood it.  Again  he  tried  the  sum,  and  quick- 
ly and  easily  obtained  the  correct  answer. 
A  few  minutes  served  to  show  him  that,  in 
conquering  this  sum,  he  had  conquered  a 
dozen  of  the  following  ones.  He  clapped  his 
hands  with  delight,  and  his  heart  glowed 
with  a  satisfaction  such  as  he  had  never  de- 
rived from  any  winter  sport,  fond  as  he  was 
of  these  amusements.  An  hour  and  a  half  of 
hard  study  now  seemed  to  him  a  small  price 
to  pay  for  the  triumph  of  that  moment. 

From  that  time  Giles  and  his  arithmetic 
became  fast  friends.  That  hour  and  a  half 
of  hard  study  made  a  mathematician  of  Giles 
Denney.  He  was  surprised  to  see  how  a 
clear  understanding  of  that  rule  smoothed 


PAINSTAKING.  39 

his  future  progress.  His  success  on  this  oc- 
casion gave  him  confidence  in  himself,  and 
taught  him  the  value  of  persevering,  self-re- 
lying effort.  From  this  time  he  followed  his 
mother's  rule,  and  never  sought  assistance 
till  he  had  first  made  a  persevering  effort  to 
help  himself  out  of  the  difficulty.  In  this 
way  he  soon  became  the  best  scholar  in  his 
class.  If  any  boy  wishes  to  like  arithme'tic, 
let  him  conquer  it.  If  he  suffers  it  to  con- 
quer him,  he  will  surely  hate  it.  If  he  now 
dislikes  it,  let  him  conquer  two  or  three  hard 
sums,  and  he  will  soon  begin  to  find  that  he 
has  a  taste  for  mathematics. 

There  was  no  time  for  play  that  morning, 
but  at  night  Giles  enjoyed  coasting  down  hill 
•with  his  cousins,  as  he  had  never  before  en- 
joyed that  sport.  He  learned  that  pleasure 
is  increased  by  duty  performed,  while  it  is 
always  lessened  by  an  uncomfortable  sense 
of  duty  neglected. 

Jonas  soon  learned  that  Giles  was  a  profi- 
cient in  all  the  games  peculiar  to  the  winter 


40  PAINSTAKING. 

season,  though  he  never  did  quite  understand 
how  he  could  resist  the  attractions  of  the  first 
snow,  and  relinquish  that  morning's  sport, 
lust  to  find  out  for  himself  how  a  sum  was 
done.  He  was  still  more  at  loss  to  account 
for  Giles's  growing  fondness  for  his  arithmetic. 
He  did  not  understand  the  almost  magic 
effect  of  painstaking  and  self-denial,  for,  like 
many  other  boys,  he  had  never  tried  them. 


PAINSTAKING.  41 

V. 

LITTLE   SAMMY. 

AFTER  Giles  had  been  at  his  uncle's  about 
six  weeks,  he  went  into  the  kitchen,  one  Sat- 
urday afternoon,  for  the  hammer  to  take  out 
to  the  wood-shed  to  crack  some  nuts.  He 
found  his  aunt  and  Sammy  in  the  kitchen. 
Mrs.  Ford  was  frying  a  large  panful  of  dough- 
nuts. She  looked  weary — Sammy  was  pull- 
ing her  sleeve  to  get  her  attention. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  "let  me  go  into  the 
boy's  room  and  play  keep  school." 

"  No,  Sammy,  it's  cold  there,  and  you  will 
take  cold." 

"  Let  me  put  on  my  little  coat  and  cap,  as 
I  did  yesterday,  then  I  shan't  take  cold." 

"  But  you  will  make  such  a  noise  right 
over  sister  Lucy's  head  that  she  can't  endure 
it.  Don't  you  remember  what  a  noise  you 
made  yesterday,  pulling  about  the  chairs  and. 
trunks  ?" 


42  PAINSTAKING. 

"  But  I  won't  do  so  to-day,  I'll  be  very 
quiet." 

"  No,  you  won't ;  you  will  forget  all  about 
being  quiet  in  two  minutes,  and  will  be  just 
as  noisy  as  ever." 

"  Then  let  me  go  out  in  the  yard  and  play." 

"  No ;  it's  very  muddy  in  the  yard ;  you 
will  get  your  clothes  all  dirty,  and  make  me 
a  great  deal  of  work ;  and  I  am  sure  I  have 
enough  to  do  now." 

"  Then  let  me  have  father's  cane  to  play 
horse." 

1 '  You  can't  have  it ;  because  you  will  make 
so  much  noise  with  it,  and  Lucy's  head  aches 
this  afternoon." 

"  You  won't  let  me  do  any  thing,  mother. 
What  shall  I  do?" 

"  What  shall  /  do  with  you  ?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Ford  impatiently.  "Do  go  away ;  you 
will  drive  me  crazy,  if  you  don't  stop  teasing 
me." 

Giles  had  never  heard  his  aunt  speak  so  im 
patiently  to  Sammy,  and  he  knew  it  was  an 


PAINSTAKING.  43 

indication  that  she  was  unusually  tired  and 
worried.  He  saw  that  she  had  a  great  deal 
to  do,  and  that  Sammy  was  teasing  and  try- 
ing her  very  much.  It  reminded  him  that 
his  mother  had  told  him  he  might  sometimes 
make  himself  very  useful  to  his  aunt  by  keep 
ing  Sammy  quiet.  He  saw  that  the  present 
was  just  the  opportunity  to  practise  upon  this 
hint.  But  it  required  some  self-denial  to  do 
so,  for  he  had  much  rather  join  Isaac  and 
Jonas  in  the  wood-shed,  than  to  remain  in  the 
house  to  amuse  Sammy.  It  was  duty  against 
pleasure;  but  he  remembered  his  mother's 
warning.  After  a  brief  struggle,  he  decided 
to  return  to  Sammy  after  he  had  taken  the 
hammer  out  to  his  cousins. 

He  was  absent  about  five  minutes.  When 
he  returned,  he  found  Sammy  astride  his  fa- 
ther's cane,  going  back  and  forth  between  the 
sitting-room  and  kitchen,  and  making  a  great 
deal  of  noise. 

"  Sammy  has  got  his  horse,"  Giles  remark- 
ed to  his  aunt. 


44  PAINSTAKING. 

"  Yes ;  I  didn't  want  him  to  have  it,  be- 
cause I  knew  he  would  worry  Lucy  with  it. 
But  I  have  no  time  to  attend  to  him,  and 
keep  him  quiet,  so  he  will  make  a  noise  with 
something." 

Giles  went  into  the  sitting-room.  Lucy's 
face  was  flushed,  and  her  brow  knit  with 
pain.  Evidently  the  noise  troubled  her  very 
much,  though  she  would  not  complain. 

"  Don't  Sammy  worry  you  ?"  inquired  Giles 
kindly. 

"Yes;  very  much,"  said  Lucy,  "but  it 
can't  be  helped ;  for  mother  has  so  much  to 
do  she  has  no  time  to  attend  to  him." 

Giles  sat  down  in  the  part  of  the  room 
most  distant  from  Lucy.  When  Sammy 
made  his  appearance  in  the  door  leading  from 
the  kitchen,  he  called  out  to  him  in  a  lively 
tone  :  "  Halloo !  Sammy ;  drive  up  here,  will 
you?" 

Sammy  promptly  accepted  the  invitation, 
pausing  before  Giles  with  a  boisterous  whoa, 


PAINSTAKING.  45 

pony,  whoa !  which  elicited  a  suppressed  groan 
from  Lucy. 

"How  far  have  you  ridden  to-day?"  in- 
quired Giles. 

"A  hundred  miles,"  promptly  replied 
Sammy,  whose  ideas  of  distances  were  very 
crude. 

"  That's  a  long  distance,"  said  Giles.  "  You 
and  your  horse  must  be  very  tired.  This  is  a 
hotel.  Won't  you  put  up  here  for  a  few 
hours?" 

This  idea  delighted  Sammy  very  much. 

"Yes;  I  will,"  said  he. 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Giles ;  "  take  your  horse 
around  to  the  stable." 

"  Where  is  the  stable  ?"  inquired  Sammy. 

Giles  designated  as  the  stable  the  corner  of 
the  hall  where  his  uncle  kept  his  cane.  "  Take 
your  horse  there,"  he  said,  "  and  charge  the 
hostler  to  take  first-rate  care  of  him." 

Sammy  rode  off  to  the  stable  in  high  glee. 
Having  delivered  his  message  to  the  imagin- 
ary hostler,  he  returned  to  Giles. 


46  PAINSTAKING. 

"  Now  this  is  the  hotel,"  said  Giles.  "  The 
hostler  will  take  care  of  your  horse,  while  I 
entertain  you  in  the  best  manner  I  am  able. 
Shall  I  tell  you  a  story  while  the  servants  get 
dinner  for  you  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes,  do ;"  said  Sammy  who  was  al- 
ways eager  for  a  story. 

"  Well,"  said  Giles,  dropping  his  assumed 
character  of  landlord,  "I  will  tell  you  a  story 
on  one  condition.  You  must  keep  very  quiet, 
and  let  sister  Lucy  rest  while  you  are  listen- 
ing to  it." 

"  I  will,"  said  Sammy. 

"  Well ;  once  there  was  a  boy  who  had  a 
beautiful  kitten  that  he  thought  every  thing 
of." 

"Was  it  like  my  pussy?"  asked  Sammy 
eagerly. 

"  It  was  something  like  it,  only  not  so  large, 
and  its  tail  was  not  all  white — it  had  a  little 
black  spot  on  it." 

"  My  pussy  has  got  a  little  black  spot  on 
her  tail,"  said  Sammy  very  earnestly. 


PAINSTAKING.  47 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken ;  I  never  saw 
any." 

"  I  tell  you  she  lias,"  said  Sammy  speaking 
in  a  very  loud  tone.  "  I'll  show  it  to  you." 

So  saying,  he  darted  off  in  pursuit  of  his 
kitten.  He  soon  returned  with  it,  and  tri- 
umphantly pointed  out  a  small  black  spot  on 
its  tail,  which  had  escaped  the  observation  of 
Giles.  "  There,  didn't  I  tell  you  so  ?"  he  said, 
in  the  same  boisterous  tone. 

"  I  see  you  are  right,"  said  Giles  in  a  very 
low  tone  of  voice. 

"  Come,  go  on,"  said  Sammy. 

Giles  made  no  reply. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  more  ?"  said  Sammy. 
"Are  you  vexed  because  pussy  has  a  black 
spot  on  her  tail?" 

Sammy,  young  as  he  was,  had  learned  that 
people  are  often  vexed  to  find  themselves 
wrong,  and  others  right,  on  some  disputed 
point. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Giles,  smiling.  "I  am 
quite  willing  pussy  should  have  a  black  spot 


48  PAINSTAKING. 

on  her  tail ;  but  I  promised  to  tell  you  the 
story  only  on  condition  that  you  were  very 
quiet,  and  you  are  not  quiet  at  all,  but  very 
noisy." 

"  I  will  be  quiet,"  said  Sammy,  dropping 
his  voice  to  a  low  key. 

"  Yery  well ;  then  I  will  go  on  ;  but  I 
shall  stop  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  talk 
loudly." 

For  the  first  five  minutes  Giles  had  to  pause 
several  times  to  remind  Sammy  that  he  was 
getting  noisy;  but  soon  his  little  listener 
learned  to  pitch  his  voice  on  a  low  key,  and 
ask  his  questions  very  quietly. 

After  telling  him  two  stories,  Giles  pro- 
posed to  make  pictures  for  him  on  the  slate. 
This  pleased  Sammy  not  less  than  the  stories, 
and  kept  him  quiet  for  an  hour. 

In  the  mean  time  the  fevered  flush  passed 
from  Lucy's  face,  the  knitted  brow  grew 
smooth,  and  a  sense  of  relief,  quiet,  and  com- 
fort was  legible  on  her  face  as  she  leaned  back 
in  her  easy-chair.  This  did  not  escape  the 


PAINSTAKING.  49 

observation  of  Giles.  Two  or  three  times 
during  the  hour  Mrs.  Ford  looked  into  the 
room,  and  each  time  a  smile  of  satisfaction 
stole  over  her  face,  as  she  saw  how  Giles  and 
Sammy  were  employed,  and  remarked  the 
air  of  quiet  comfort  with  which  Lucy  was 
leaning  back  in  her  easy-chair. 

At  last  Sammy  became  so  engrossed  in  im- 
itating the  pictures  made  by  his  cousin,  that 
Giles  was  sure  he  would  remain  quiet  for  the 
next  hour,  if  left  to  himself;  so  he  determined 
to  go  out  and  join  Isaac  and  Jonas. 

As  he  was  leaving  the  room  Lucy  said : 
"  You  don't  know  how  much  good  you  have 
done,  Giles.  You  have  almost  cured  my 
headache,  besides  making  Sammy,  who  has 
been  very  cross  to-day,  quite  happy." 

As  Giles  passed  through  the  kitchen,  his 
aunt  said  to  him :  "  You  are  a  good  boy, 
Giles.  I  declare,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  had  a 
night's  rest  since  you  came  in.  I  don't  know 
how  I  should  have  got  along  through  the 

afternoon  without  you.     Sammy  always  has 
5 


50  PAINSTAKING. 

one  of  his  teasing  turns  when  there  is  the 
most  work  to  be  done,  and  he  does  sometimes 
worry  me  so.  Isaac  and  Jonas  might  amuse 
him  more,  if  they  would ;  but  they  won't  take 
the  pains." 

Mrs.  Ford  looked  indeed  as  if  she  had  had 
a  night's  rest.  The  worried,  tired  expression 
had  passed  from  her  face,  and  she  looked 
cheerful  and  happy.  The  doughnuts  were  all 
fried,  Sammy  was  quiet,  and  Lucy  was  rest- 
ing. Giles  joined  Isaac  and  Jonas,  with  a 
spirit  made  light  and  buoyant  with  the  pleas- 
ing consciousness  that  he  had  promoted  the 
comfort  and  happiness  of  three  members  of 
the  family  that  had  so  kindly  received  him. 

After  Giles  retired  to  bed  that  night  he  re- 
called with  satisfaction  the  efforts  he  had 
made  that  afternoon  to  render  himself  useful. 
But  the  pleasure  with  which  he  thought  of  it 
was  not  unmingled  with  self-reproach,  occa- 
sioned by  the  consciousness  that  he  had  not 
done  all  he  could  to  gratify  Lucy  and  Sammy 
since  he  had  been  at  his  uncle's,  notwithstand- 


PAINSTAKING.  51 

ing  the  hint  his  mother  had  given  him.  Oc- 
cupied with  his  studies,  and  his  merry,  active 
sports  with  Isaac  and  Jonas,  he  had  too  much 
overlooked  his  cousin  Lucy,  who,  by  a  hope- 
less illness,  was  rendered,  to  a  great  degree, 
incapable  of  joining  in  their  sports  and  studies. 
He  knew  that  Isaac  and  Jonas  loved  their 
sister,  yet  he  had  witnessed  several  instances 
in  which  they  had  been  thoughtlessly  selfish, 
and  unmindful  of  her  comfort  and  pleasure, 
and  he  feared  that  he  had  been  too  much  in- 
fluenced by  their  example.  He  was  sure,  if 
he  were  sick  and  suffering,  he  should  wish  to 
be  treated  with  great  kindness,  and  tender 
consideration,  and  he  resolved  to  take  more 
pains  to  be  kind  to  Lucy,  and  to  seek  oppor- 
tunities of  giving  her  pleasure  or  affording 
her  amusement. 

"  Jonas,"  said  Lucy,  one  morning  the  next 
week,  "  won't  you  read  to  me  the  story  in  the 
paper  that  came  last  night,  before  you  go  to 
school ?" 


52  PAINSTAKING. 

"I  can't,"  said  Jonas,  "I  must  mend  my 
sled  this  morning." 

"  Can't  you  mend  your  sled  to-night  ?  It's 
a  long  time  since  you  have  read  to  me." 

"  Well,  who's  to  blame  ?"  said  Jonas  a  little 
sharply.  "  It  isn't  two  days  since  I  wanted 
to  read  you  a  story,  and  you  wouldn't  let  me.' 

"  But  you  know  my  head  ached  very  hard 
then." 

"  I  know  you  are  never  ready  to  hear  when 
I  am  ready  to  read.  You  always  ask  me, 
when  I  want  to  do  something  else." 

Lucy  looked  grieved,  but  made  no  reply. 
As  soon  as  Jonas  had  left  the  room,  Giles 
offered  to  read  the  story  to  Lucy ;  remarking 
that  he  often  read  to  his  mother  and  sister 
while  they  were  sewing.  His  offer  was  grate- 
fully accepted. 

Giles  took  great  pains  to  read  in  such  a  way 
as  not  to  weary  Lucy ;  he  was  careful  not  to 
read  too  loud,  while  he  read  very  distinctly. 

"  What  a  nice  reader  you  are,"  said  Lucy 


PAINSTAKING.  53 

when  the  story  was  finished.  u  It  don't  tire 
me  to  hear  you  as  it  does  to  listen  to  my 
brothers.  They  do  not  read  distinctly,  or 
they  read  too  loud." 

Giles  was  gratified  by  this  commendation 
of  his  reading,  and  after  this  he  often  read  to 
Lucy,  and  sometimes  amused  her  by  engaging 
with  her  in  some  quiet  game.  Not  unfre- 
quently  it  cost  him  some  self-denial  to  do  so. 
It  sometimes  happened  that  Lucy  was  too  ill 
to  hear  when  Giles  felt  most  disposed  to  read ; 
and  at  other  times  she  would  ask  him  to  read 
when  he  would  much  have  preferred  to  join 
in  some  active  sport  with  Isaac  and  Jonas. 
But  Giles  was  not  an  inconsiderate  boy.  He 
knew  that  Lucy  could  not  time  her  periods  of 
headache  and  increased  suffering  to  suit  his 
convenience,  while  he  could,  by  a  little  pains- 
taking, time  his  studies  and  sports  to  accom- 
modate her. 

Lucy,  ever  affectionate  and  gentle  to  all, 
soon  became  much  attached  to  the  young 
cousin  who  took  so  much  pains  to  give  her 
5* 


54 


PAINSTAKING. 


pleasure ;  and  Giles,  in  his  turn,  became  very 
fond  of  her  society,  and  began  to  delight  in 
bestowing  those  little  attentions  which  had  at 
first  been  mainly  prompted  by  a  sense  of  duty. 
Thus  it  is  that  duty  faithfully  performed  often 
becomes  pleasure,  and  self-denial  is  changed 
to  self-gratification. 


PAINSTAKING.  55 

YI. 

PAYING     A     DEBT. 

IN  the  spring,  Mr.  Ford  offered  to  board 
Giles,  and  send  him  to  school  another  winter, 
if  he  would  remain  with  him  through  the 
summer,  and  work  on  the  farm.  Mrs.  Denney 
gratefully  accepted  this  offer;  and  Giles  re- 
solved to  spare  no  pains  to  render  himself  as 
useful  as  possible  to  his  uncle  during  the  sum- 
mer months. 

Giles  had  not  forgotten  the  kindness  of  his 
sister  Mary,  in  so  cheerfully  yielding  up  her 
hard  earnings  for  his  benefit.  At  the  time, 
he  had  secretly  resolved  to  regard  it  only  as  a 
loan,  and  to  replace  it  with  the  first  five  dol- 
lars he  should  earn.  During  the  winter  he 
had  found  no  opportunity  to  earn  even  a 
dime.  At  home  there  was  a  frequent  demand 
for  such  little  services  as  he  could  render  to 
the  neighbors,  and  he  often  earned  a  few  cents 


56  PAINSTAKING. 

in  that  w,ay.  But  the  families  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  Mr.  Ford,  were  well  supplied  with 
boys,  and  had  no  occasion  for  such  services  ; 
so  the  winter  passed  away,  and  not  a  penny 
was  earned  of  the  five  dollars  which  was  to 
refund  the  money  supplied  by  his  sister.  But 
Giles  did  not  forget  his  resolution.  He  had 
often  heard  it  said  that  "  where  there  is  a  will 
there  is  a  way."  He  meant  to  keep  the  will, 
and  perhaps  the  way  would  at  length  appear, 
if  he  kept  his  eyes  open  to  look  out  for  it.  It 
did  appear  at  last. 

Half  a  mile  north  of  his  uncle's  was  a  small 
cluster  of  houses,  which  went  by  the  name  of 
the  Village.  One  evening  Giles  was  sent  of 
an  errand  to  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Bliss,  who 
lived  in  this  village.  "While  there  he  chanced 
to  hear  Mrs.  Bliss  lament  the  loss  of  their  post- 
boy, as  she  called  him. 

"  "Who  was  your  post-boy  ?"  inquired  Giles. 

"  Nathan  Smith  has  been  our  post-boy  for 
the  last  two  years,"  replied  Mrs.  Bliss.  "  He 
would  go  to  the  office  every  night,  and  bring 


PAINSTAKING.  57 

all  the  papers  and  letters  for  this  neighbor- 
hood. He  had  not  much  else  to  do,  and  could 
go  as  well  as  not.  But  this  summer,  his 
father  has  put  him  out  to  work  on  a  farm.  I 
dare  say  it  is  better  for  the  boy,  but  we  miss 
him  very  much." 

"Did  Nathan  get  any  thing  for  bringing 
the  letters  and  papers  ?"  inquired  Giles. 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  replied  Mrs.  Bliss. 
"We  should  not  expect  a  boy  to  walk  two 
miles  and  a  half  every  night  for  nothing. 
Most  gave  him  a  cent  for  every  letter,  and 
often  he  would  get  something  for  papers.  We 
called  him  our  penny-post." 

"  How  much  do  you  suppose  a  boy  could 
earn  in  that  way  during  the  summer  ?"  asked 
Giles. 

"  I  can't  say  exactly.  He  would  get  some 
letters  every  night.  He  would  also  have  er- 
rands to  do  at  the  stores  in  town,  if  willing  to 
do  them,  and  would  pick  up  some  money  in 
that  way.  I  should  think  he  might  get  five 
dollars  or  more  during  the  summer." 


58  PAINSTAKING. 

At  the  mention  of  this  much  coveted  sum, 
Giles's  eyes  brightened.  After  a  moment's  re- 
flection he  said  :  "I  don't  know  but  I  would 
be  post-boy  for  you  this  summer,  if  Uncle 
Ford  would  let  me.  It  would  be  just  as  far 
for  me  to  walk  as  it  was  for  Nathan." 

"  We  should  like  the  plan  very  much,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Bliss ;  "  but  I  suppose  you  have 
more  to  do  than  Nathan  had." 

Giles  was  aware  of  the  difference  this  would 
make.  He  knew  that  a  walk  which  would 
be  only  a  pleasure  of  itself,  would  be  a  weary 
toil,  after  a  hard  day's  work  on  the  farm.  He 
thought  the  matter  all  over,  after  leaving  Mrs. 
Bliss,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
would  be  post-boy  for  the  village  that  sum- 
mer, if  he  could  gain  his  uncle's  consent. 
"  If  I  do  earn  the  money  in  this  way,"  he  said 
to  himself,  "  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  work  hard- 
er for  it  than  Mary  did.  I  am  stronger  than 
she,  and  it  shan't  be  said  that  I  am  not  willing 
to  take  as  much  pains  to  get  it  for  her,  as  she 
did  to  earn  it  for  me." 


PAINSTAKING.  59 

That  very  night  Giles  told  his  uncle  of  the 
plan,  and  asked  his  consent.  At  first  Mr. 
Ford  shook  his  head. 

"  I  will  do  just  as  much  work  on  the  farm," 
said  Giles ;  "  it  shan't  make  a  bit  of  differ- 
ence." 

"  It  will  be  too  hard  for  you  to  take  such  a 
walk  after  your  day's  work,"  said  his  uncle. 

"  I  don't  think  it  will,"  said  Giles ;  "  I  am 
pretty  tough.  Mrs.  Bliss  says  I  can  earn  five 
dollars  this  summer,  and,  you  know,  I  can't 
earn  any  money  any  other  way." 

"  What  if  you  can't  ?  you  have  every  thing 
you  need  at  present.  I  suspect  you  are  a  lit- 
tle avaricious ;  are  you  not  ?  Why  do  you 
wish  so  much  to  earn  this  five  dollars  ?  What 
will  you  do  with  it,  when  you  get  it  ?" 

"  Oh  !  never  mind  about  that,"  said  Giles. 

"  But  I  do  mind  about  it.  I  can't  give  my 
consent  to  your  undertaking  so  much,  without 
I  can  see  some  good  and  sufficient  reason  for 
it,  which  I  certainly  do  not.  I  can't  see  that 


60  PAINSTAKING. 

you  have  any  special  use  for  the  money  at  the 
present  tune." 

"  I  want  it  to  pay  a  debt,"  said  Giles. 

Mr.  Ford  now  looked  very  grave.  "A 
debt,  Giles !"  he  said  almost  sternly ;  "  how 
came  you  to  be  in  debt  ?" 

Giles  saw  that  he  was  misunderstood,  and 
could  set  the  matter  right  only  by  telling  the 
whole  truth ;  so  he  related  the  story  of  Mary's 
five  dollars  ;  how  hard  she  had  worked  for  it, 
and  how  cheerfully  she  had  given  it  up  for 
his  sake. 

"  Now,  uncle,"  said  Giles  in  conclusion,  "  if 
I  am  post-boy  for  the  village  this  summer,  I 
can  earn  the  money  by  fall,  and  can  send  it  to 
Mary  to  get  her  a  shawl  before  cold  weather. 
It  would  make  me  so  happy  to  do  it;  1 
wouldn't  mind  being  tired." 

Mr.  Ford  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
throw  cold  water  upon  the  noble  purpose 
formed  by  Giles,  and  he  gave  his  free  consent 
to  his  becoming  mail-carrier  for  the  village. 

The  next  day,  therefore,  Giles  entered  upon 


PAINSTAKING.  61 

the  work,  and,  as  he  was  civil  and  obliging, 
he  soon  became  very  popular  as  a  post-boy. 
Being  prompt  and  faithful  in  performing  any 
little  commissions  intrusted  to  him,  the  pen- 
nies and  half-dimes  found  their  way  into  his 
pocket  even  more  rapidly  than  he  had  antici- 
pated. 

The  walk  sometimes  seemed  long  after  a 
hard  day's  work ;  but  if  tempted  to  flag,  he 
thought  of  his  delicate  sister  Mary;  how  many 
hours  she  had  sewed  with  the  side-ache  to 
earn  that  five  dollars ;  and  how  many  times 
during  the  last  winter  she  had  probably  felt 
the  need  of  the  shawl  she  had  relinquished. 
He  thought,  too,  how  much  she  expected  from 
him,  her  only  brother,  and  resolved  not  to 
disappoint  her  expectations,  nor  those  of  his 
kind  mother. 

The  family  of  Mr.  Bliss  were  his  best  and 
most  liberal  patrons,  and  he  had  occasion  to 
call  there  almost  daily.  Soon  after  he  assumed 
the  duties  of  his  new  office,  Julia  Bliss,  the 
eldest  daughter,  was  taken  sick,  and  remained 
6 


62  PAINSTAKING. 

quite  an  invalid  during  the  summer.  Giles 
accidentally  discovered  that  Julia  was  very 
fond  of  flowers.  As  the  family  had  been 
kind  to  him,  paying  him  liberally  for  the  pa- 
pers and  letters  he  brought  them,  he  endeav- 
ored to  show  his  gratitude  by  an  occasional 
offering  of  a  bouquet  of  wild  flowers  to  the 
invalid.  As  the  young  lady  always  received 
the  gift  with  much  apparent  satisfaction  and 
gratitude,  it  became  a  great  pleasure  to  Giles 
to  bring  these  little  offerings,  and  he  would 
often  go  considerably  out  of  his  way  to  gather 
them,  feeling  well  rewarded  for  his  pains-tak- 
ing, by  the  sweet  smile,  and  the  hearty 
"Thank  you,"  with  which  they  were  re- 
ceived. Sometimes  he  would  bring  a  little 
basket  of  berries,  instead  of  the  bouquet  of 
flowers,  knowing  that  Julia  had  no  little  bro- 
ther to  gather  berries  for  her. 

At  last  Giles's  little  store  reached  the  sum 
of  four  dollars.  About  this  time  Mr.  Ford 
announced,  at  the  dinner-table,  one  day,  that 
the  new  railroad  was  nearly  completed,  and 


PAINSTAKING.  63 

that  the  cars  would  run  to  D.  by  the  first  of 
October. 

"  Then,"  he  added,  turning  to  his  wife,  "  I 
intend  to  go  and  see  my  sister,  and  take  you 
and  Giles  with, me.  The  journey  will  benefit 
you,  and  Giles  must  go  and  see  Ms  mother 
this  fall,  for  he  is  her  only  son,  and  besides,  he 
has  been  a  good  boy,  and  worked  well  this 
summer." 

This  announcement  took  Giles  entirely  by 
surprise,  as  he  had  no  thought  of  his  uncle's 
giving  him  such  a  treat  as  a  visit  home,  in 
addition  to  all  his  other  kindnesses.  He  would 
have  said,  "  Thank  you,  uncle ;"  but  some- 
how there  was  a  choking  in  his  throat  which 
prevented  his  saying  a  single  word.  It  did 
not,  however,  prevent  his  glistening  eyes 
speaking  a  whole  volume  of  thanks. 

The  expectation  of  being  able  to  put  into 
the  hands  of  his  sister  the  five  dollars  he  haNd 
earned  during  the  summer,  greatly  added  to 
the  anticipated  pleasure  of  his  visit  home. 
His  walks  from  the  town  to  the  village  now 


64:  PAINSTAKING. 

no  longer  seemed  weary ;  for  the  reward  of 
his  painstaking  was  near  at  hand,  and  his 
thoughts  were  beguiled  by  fancy  pictures  of 
how  Mary  would  look,  and  what  she  would 
say,  when  he  should  place  in  her  hands  the 
fruit  of  his  own  honest  and  hard  earnings. 

But  a  still  greater  pleasure  was  in  store  for 
him.  Julia  Bliss  began  to  feel  a  very  friendly 
interest  in  the  lad  who  so  often  brought  her 
fruit  and  flowers.  She  frequently  talked  with 
him,  and  one  day  drew  from  him  the  motive 
which  induced  him  to  undertake  the  office  of 
post-boy  that  summer.  She  was  very  much 
interested  in  the  story  of  his  sister's  self-denial, 
and  his  own  praiseworthy  determination  to 
repay  the  money. 

"  You  have  been  very  kind  to  bring  me 
flowers  and  fruit  this  summer,"  she  said,  after 
listening  to  the  story,  "and  I  would  like  to 
do  something  for  you  in  return.  There  is  one 
way  in  which  I  think  I  can  help  you.  My 
brother  James  is  clerk  in  a  wholesale  dry- 
goods  store  in  New- York.  He  can  purchase 


PAINSTAKING.  65 

goods  for  us  at  wholesale  prices.  If  lie  had 
your  five  dollars  lie  could  purchase  with  it  a 
shawl  better  than  your  sister  could  purchase 
for  seven  dollars.  If  you  will  trust  me  with 
your  money,  I  will  send  it  to  him,  and  then, 
when  you  go  home,  you  can  carry  your  sister 
a  seven  dollar  shawl,  which,  I  think,  will 
please  her  better  than  the  money.  How  do 
you  like  the  plan?" 

"Very  much,"  said  Giles;  "but  I  have 
now  only  four  dollars  and  a  half." 

"  Never  mind ;  give  me  that,  and  I  will  ad- 
vance the  other  half  dollar.  You  will  soon 
earn  it,  probably  by  the  time  you  get  the 
shawl." 

Giles  gratefully  accepted  this  offer,  and  felt 
that  he  was  indeed  richly  rewarded  for  the 
extra  steps  he  had  taken  to  gather  flowers  and 
fruit. 

In  due  time  the  shawl  came.  Giles  felt 
sure  that  Mary  would  think  it  very  hand- 
some. He  spent  hours  in  imagining  how  his 


DO  PAINSTAKING. 

aister  would  look  when  she  received  it.  He 
could  hardly  wait  for  October  to  come. 

October  came  at  last,  and  with  the  falling 
leaves  there  fell  a  shower  of  joy  over  the 
humble  home  of  Mrs.  Denney ;  for  Giles,  the 
only  son  and  brother,  in  whom  so  many  hopes 
were  centred,  was  at  home  once  more ;  and 
his  uncle  and  aunt  who  were  with  him,  gave 
him  the  good  name  of  a  pleasant,  industrious, 
and  faithful  boy — a  name  which  to  his  mo- 
ther was  "better  than  precious  ointment." 

Mary,  when  presented  with  the  shawl,  man- 
ifested all  the  surprise,  joy,  and  grateful  pleas- 
ure which  Giles  had  anticipated.  "What 
does  this  mean  ?"  she  asked,  half-bewildered, 
as  Giles,  an  hour  after  his  arrival,  came 
unobserved  behind  her,  and  threw  the 
shawl  over  her  shoulders,  as  she  stood  before 
the  glass  arranging  her  hair. 

"It  is  a  shawl  for  you,  Mary,"  said  Giles. 

"  For  me !     "Where  did  you  get  it  ?" 

"  Bought  it,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 


PAINSTAKING.  67 

"  Bought  it  1     With  what  ?" 

"With  money,  to  be  sure,"  replied  Giles, 
laughing.  "What  else  should  I  buy  it 
with?" 

"  But  where  did  you  get  the  money  ?" 

"Earned  it." 

"How?" 

"  Come  tell  the  whole  story,"  said  his  aunt, 
who  was  sitting  by,  "  and  don't  mystify  Mary 
any  longer." 

So  the  whole  story  was  told,  and  Mary, 
while  she  listened  to  it,  looked  from  the  shawl 
to  Giles,  and  from  Giles  to  the  shawl,  in  a  way 
which  seemed  to  say  she  did  not  know  which 
most  to  admire. 

When  the  history  of  the  shawl  had  been 
given,  Mary  exclaimed :  "  There,  mother, 
didn't  I  say  I  expected  to  be  proud  of  Giles 
some  day  ? — but  I  didn't  think  the  day  would 
come  50  soon.  He  is  a  brave  boy,  an't  he  ?" 

"  But  how  do  you.  like  the  shawl  ?"  said 
Giles. 

"  Oh !  it  is  beautiful,"  said  Mary,  surveying 


68  PAI3TSTAKIXG. 

herself  in  the  glass.  "It  is  so  much  prettier 
than  any  I  could  have  bought  about  here  for 
the  same  money.  Indeed,  it  is  well  worth 
waiting  for.  But  it  was  too  bad  for  you  to 
spend  for  it  all  the  money  you  had  earned  so 
hard." 

"  I  didn't  work  for  it  so  hard  as  you  work- 
ed for  the  money  you  gave  me,"  said  Giles. 

The  visit  home  was  very  pleasant,  though 
short,  and  Giles  bore  away  with  him  his  mo- 
ther's blessing,  and  much  loving  and  Christ- 
ian maternal  counsel,  together  with  his  sister's 
good  wishes. 

The  next  winter  was  with  Giles  a  very  stu- 
dious one  ;  for  he  resolved  to  make  the  most 
of  the  privileges  enjoyed  through  the  kind- 
ness of  his  uncle.  He  found  time,  however, 
to  contribute  much  to  the  comfort  and  pleas- 
ure of  his  invalid  cousin,  and  spent  many 
happy  hours  in  trying  to  make  her  happy. 
He  was  amply  rewarded  for  these  efforts  by 
the  grateful  affection  with  which  his  gentle 
cousin  regarded  him.  Giles  always  took 


PAINSTAKING.  69 

pleasure  in  the  society  of  Lucy,  for  lie  was  so 
sure  of  her  quick  and  ready  sympathy  in  all 
his  plans  and  pursuits.  Her  interest  had  been 
only  second  to  his  own  in  his  plan  for  pro- 
curing the  shawl  for  his  sister,  and  she  clap- 
ped her  hands  with  delight  when  Giles  de- 
scribed to  her  Mary's  surprise  and  pleasure  on 
receiving  it. 

In  the  spring  it  was  decided  to  send  Isaac 
away  to  learn  the  trade  of  carpenter,  towards 
which  he  had  a  strong  natural  bias,  and  Mr. 
Ford  proposed  that  Giles  should  remain  with 
him  a  couple  of  years,  in  the  place  of  Isaac — 
a  proposal  which  was  gladly  accepted  by  Mrs. 
Denney  and  Giles. . 


70  PAIXSTAKI3TGL 

YII. 
YOUTHFUL  DREAMS.. 

THE  first  five  dollars  earned  by  Giles  had 
awakened  in  his  heart  a  new  ambition,  or  if 
not  altogether  new,  it  now  assnmed  the  shape 
of  a  definite  and  earnest  purpose.  He  re- 
solved that  he  would  some  day  be  a  rich  man. 

Very  often  did  he  now  recall  the  conversa- 
tion with  the  wealthy  merchant  in  the  stage. 
"He  was  once  as  poor  as  I,"  Giles  would  say 
to  himself,  "  but  now  he  is  rich,  very  rich. 
Why  can't  I  become  rich  as  well  as  he  ?  It 
was  all  accomplished  by  painstaking,  he  said, 
and  surely  I  am  not  afraid  of  that.  Yes,  I 
will  be  a  rich  man  one  of  these  days,  and 
have  a  fine  house,  and  mother,  Mary,  and 
Lizzie  shall  live  with  me." 

These  thoughts  took  firm  possession  of  the 
mind  of  Giles,  and  his  day  and  night  dreams 
were  colored  by  them.  He  began  to  contrive 
all  possible  ways  of  earning  a  little  money. 


PAINSTAKING.  71 

"  Where  tliere  is  a  will  there  is  a  way,"  and 
his  purse  soon  began  to  grow  heavy  with 
quarters,  dimes,  and  half-dimes. 

Giles  was  now  carefully  cultivating  the 
virtues  of  industry,  painstaking,  and  frugality ; 
yet  he  was  falling  into  a  great  and  fatal  error. 
While  so  diligently  practising  upon  the  hints 
dropped  by  the  wealthy  merchant,  he  was 
neglecting  the  more  important  advice  which 
he  received  on  the  same  occasion.  He  was 
not  taking  the  greatest  pains  to  secure  the  best 
things.  Those  things  Giles  was  beginning  so 
eagerly  to  crave  were  good  in  their  place, 
but  they  were  not  the  best  things. 

After  an  absence  of  a  year  and  a  half  from 
home,  Giles  was  again  permitted  to  visit  his 
mother  and  sisters.  He  had  worked  hard 
and  studied  hard  during  that  period.  In  the 
time  he  had  earned  the  sum  of  ten  dollars, 
which  his  uncle  Ford  had  placed  for  him  in 
the  savings  bank,  calling  it  his  nest-egg.  His 
uncle,  for  the  services  he  could  render,  had 
given  him  his  board,  clothing,  and  schooling, 


72'  PAINSTAKING. 

during  the  time.  He  had  also  kindly  furnish- 
ed him  with  money  to  defray  the  expenses  of 
his  journey  to  see  his  mother. 

When  the  time  came  for  Giles  to  return  to 
his  uncle,  he  proposed  to  save  the  stage  fare, 
which  was  a  dollar  and  a  half,  by  walking  to 
D.,  a  distance  of  twenty -five  miles.  His  mo- 
ther gave  her  consent  to  this  economical  plan. 

Giles  started  very  early  in  the  morning, 
that  he  might  arrive  at  D.  in  time  -for  the 
three  o'clock  train,  and  so  reach  his  uncle's 
the  same  day.  He  travelled  the  first  fifteen 
miles  without  much  fatigue,  but  he  then  began 
to  feel  weary.  He  was  within  a  mile  of  a 
pleasant  country  town,  and  was  passing  a 
handsome  country  residence. 

"  What  a  fine  place,"  thought  Giles,  as  he 
gained  a  full  view  of  it.  "  It  is  exactly  such 
a  house  as  I  would  like.  I  mean  to  have 
just  such  a  one  when  I  get  to  be  a  rich 
man." 

After  passing  the  house,  Giles  gained  a 
slight  elevation  which  commanded  a  view  of 


PAINSTAKING.  78 

that  and  the  surrounding  grounds.  Here  the 
side  of  the  road  was  shaded  by  a  beautiful 
maple.  Giles  decided  to  seat  himself  for  half 
an  hour  under  this  friendly  shade,  for  the 
double  purpose  of  rest,  and  of  taking  a  lei- 
surely survey  of  the  mansion  he  so  much  ad- 
mired. 

Diving  into  the  recesses  of  his  coat-pocket, 
he  drew  from  thence  a  paper  of  cakes  and 
sandwiches,  which  his  careful  mother  had  pro- 
vided for  him.  While  refreshing  himself  with 
these,  his  eyes  took  a  careful  survey  of  every 
thing  around  him. 

"How  pleasant  it  must  be  to  own  such  a 
house,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  If  it  were  mine, 
mother  should  have  a  nice  room  in  the  wing 
on  this  side.  How  pleasant  it  looks,  with 
those  vines  running  all  over  it !  Mary  and 
Lizzie  should  have  the  chamber  on  this  corner 
of  the  house.  Its  windows  must  command  a 
fine  prospect,  and  that  is  what  Mary  likes. 
How  happy  we  should  all  be  in  such  a  house ! 
7 


P  PAINSTAKING. 

Who  knows  but  that  we  may  try  it  some 
day?" 

Giles  sat  building  castles  in  the  air  till  lie 
almost  forgot  his  weariness.  At  last  the  con- 
viction that  he  should  be  on  his  way  brought 
him  back  to  present  realities.  The  vanishing 
of  his  beautiful  air-castle  cost  him  a  pang,  as 
the  dissolving  of  these  fairy  edifices  often  does. 
He  heaved  a  sigh,  as  he  thought  how  long  it 
must  be  before  his  little  nest-egg  of  ten  dol- 
lars could  grow  large  enough  to  build  such 
a  house,  and  support  such  an  establishment. 
"  I  wish  I  were  now  in  the  place  of  the  owner 
of  that  house,"  he  thought.  "  How  happy  he 
must  be !" 

The  sound  of  wheels  now  caught  his  ear. 
Looking  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  he  saw 
a  man  approaching  in  a  light  buggy.  "  How 
I  would  like  a  seat  in  that  buggy !"  thought 
Giles.  "How  much  better  than  to  trudge 
along  wearily  on  foot !  But  any  how,  it  is 
time  I  was  moving." 


PAINSTAKING.  75 

Casting  one  more  half-envious  look  at  the 
mansion  he  had  so  long  been  contemplating, 
Giles  left  his  seat  under  the  tree  to  pursue  his 
journey.  He  had  gone  about  five  rods  when 
he  was  overtaken  by  the  traveller  in  the  bug- 
gy. Though  Giles  was  so  young  and  active, 
he  now  began  to  show  signs  of  being  a  way- 
worn traveller.  His  clothes  and  boots  were 
very  dusty,  and  his  face  had  a  weary  look. 
It  might  have  worn  something  of  a  wishful 
look  too,  as  it  was  turned  towards  the  occu. 
pant  of  the  comfortable  vehicle  who  was  driv- 
ing past  him. 

At  all  events  the  gentleman  checked  his 
horse  just  after  passing  Giles,  and  looking 
back  said,  in  a  cheerful  tone :  "  Good  morning, 
my  young  friend." 

Giles  returned  the  salutation  with  a  polite- 
ness of  manner  which  had  become  habitual  to 
him,  because  he  had  taken  pains  to  cultivate 
it. 

"  Have  you  walked  far  to-day  ?"  inquired 
the  stranger. 


76  PAINSTAKING. 

"About  fifteen  miles,"  said  Giles. 

"  You  look  like  it,"  was  the  reply.  "  Have 
you  much  farther  to  go  ?" 

"  About  ten  miles,  I  suppose,  I  am  going 
to  D.  to  take  the  cars." 

"I  am  going  there  myself"  said  the  gentle- 
man. "  If  you  would  like  to  occupy  the  va- 
cant seat  in  my  buggy,  you  shall  be  quite 
welcome  to  it." 

"Oh!  thank  you,  sir.  It  will  be  a  very 
great  favor  to  me ;  for  I  am  not  used  to  walk- 
ing so  far." 

A  few  unimportant  questions  were  asked 
and  answered  during  the  first  mile  of  their 
ride  together.  As  they  entered  the  principal 
street  of  the  village,  they  passed  a  hearse. 

"  They  tell  me  Mr.  Osborn  is  to  be  buried 
to-day,"  remarked  Giles's  companion.  "  No 
doubt  that  hearse  is  going  out  there.  Are 
you  acquainted  in  this  vicinity  ?" 

"Not  at  all,  sir,"  said  Giles. 

"  No  doubt  you  observed  the  house  just 
back  of  where  I  took  you  in." 


PAINSTAKING.  77 

"  Oil !  yes,  sir,  I  observed  it,  because  it  was 
STicli  a  beautiful  place." 

"  Mr.  Osborn  lived  there.  He  was  a  very 
wealthy  man." 

Giles  felt  a  strange,  cold  shudder  creep  over 
him,  as  he  thought  how  earnestly,  within  the 
last  hour,  he  had  wished  that  he  were  in  that 
man's  place.  What  if  he  were  there  then  ? 
What  if  he  were  shrouded  for  the  grave  ? — 
and  again  a  cold  shudder  ran  over  him.  Giles 
knew  that  he  was  not  prepared  to  die.  He 
knew  that  if  he  were  standing  face  to  face 
with  death,  he  would  give  all  he  had  just  now 
so  coveted,  were  it  his  own,  ah !  and  a 
thousand  times  more,  for  one  week  of  life, 
one  week  to  prepare  for  death.  Were  then 
money,  houses,  and  lands,  the  things  of  great- 
est value,  when  any  day,  in  this  dying  world, 
a  man  might  be  placed  where  these  things 
were  nothing  to  him?  This  query  recalled 
to  his  mind  the  advice  he  had  received  more 
than  two  years  before,  from  his  travelling 
companion  in  the  stage-coach,  while  passing 


78  PAINSTAKING. 

over  the  same  road.  He  felt  that  he  had  not 
followed  this  advice,  had  not  taken  the  great- 
est pains  to  secure  the  best  things.  During 
the  past  year  he  had  been  planning  and  schem- 
ing how  to  become  a  rich  man.  Now  he 
was  only  a  lad,  a  poor  lad,  and  it  must  be 
many  years  before  he  could  become  a  wealthy 
man,  but  might  he  not,  even  now,  secure  that 
which  was  better  than  riches,  if  he  would? 
If  he  had  sought  the  favor  of  God,  with  all 
his  heart,  might  he  not  have  become  a  Christ- 
ian the  past  year,  and  been  able  to  think  of 
death  without  the  cold  shudder  he  had  just 
felt  at  the  thought  of  it  ? 

So  occupied  was  Giles  with  this  unexpected 
train  of  thought,  that  he  almost  forgot  the 
presence  of  the  gentleman  by  his  side,  until 
he  turned  towards  him  with  a  glance  which 
.seemed  to  ask  the  cause  of  this  fit  of  abstrac- 
tion. Giles  felt  that  it  was  no  more  than 
courteous  to  assign  a  reason  for  it. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  Mr.  Osborn,"  he  said. 
•"I  admired  his  place  very  much,  when  I 


PAINSTAKING.  79 

passed  it,  and  I  thought,  as  I  have  often  done, 
how  I  would  like  to  be  a  rich  man ;  but  his 
wealth  can  be  of  no  use  to  him  now." 

"  That  depends  upon  the  manner  in  which 
he  has  used  it,"  replied  the  gentleman. 

"  How  so  ?"  said  Giles.  "  He  can  not  at 
all  events,  take  it  with  him." 

"Very  true.  It  was  never  strictly  his, 
only  lent  from  the  Lord.  But  the  Bible  tells 
us  that  we  may  so  use  earthly  riches  as  to 
convert  them  into  heavenly  treasures,  which 
shall  be,  as  it  were,  laid  up  in  store  for  us  in 
that  better  world  whose  riches  never  take  to 
themselves  wings  and  fly  away.  Mr.  Osborn 
was,  I  believe,  a  good  man,  and  I  trust  he 
used  his  wealth  in  this  way.  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  parable  of  the  talents  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Giles. 

"You  recollect  that  those  servants  who 
made  a  good  use  of  the  talents  committed  to 
them  received  a  rich  reward.  Different  per- 
sons have  different  talents,  and  each  person 
is  bound  to  improve  the  talent  or  talents  given 


SO  PAINSTAKING. 

to  him.  One  boy  has  a  taste  for  study,  a 
talent  for  acquiring  knowledge,  and  he  is 
bound  to  improve  that  talent.  Another  has 
a  decided  talent  for  acquiring  property,  which 
he  is  under  obligation  to  improve." 

"  Then  you  don't  think,  sir,  there  is  any 
harm  in  resolving  to  be  a  rich  man,"  said 
Giles  eagerly. 

"That  depends  altogether  upon  the  spirit 
in  which  the  resolution  is  made.  If  a  boy 
resolves  to  be  a  rich  man  simply  to  gratify  a 
selfish  desire  for  the  pride  and  luxury  of 
wealth,  such  a  resolution  is  certainly  wrong. 
But  if  a  boy  has  good  reason  to  believe  that 
he  has  a  talent  for  acquiring  property,  there 
is  no  harm  in  his  resolving  to  acquire  it,  if 
his  wish  to  gain  possession  of  it  is  governed 
by  a  desire  to  employ  it  for  the  glory  of  his 
Maker,  and  the  increase  of  his  own  usefulness 
in  the  world.  Wealth  acquired  and  used  in 
this  spirit  is  a  great  blessing,  and  industry, 
frugality,  and  painstaking,  employed  to  ac- 
quire it,  are  great  virtues. 


PAINSTAKING.  81 

"  In  order  to  gain  and  use  wealth  in  this 
manner,  the  heart  must  be  right,  and  the 
favor  and  friendship  of  God  must  be  sought 
as  the  great  end  of  life,  the  chief  object  of 
pursuit.  This  will  bring  every  thing  into 
its  right  place.  Any  honest  calling  may  be 
safely  pursued  as  a  secondary  object.  A  man 
may  then  become  learned,  distinguished,  or 
wealthy,  and  find,  in  his  learning,  station,  or 
wealth,  the  blessing  of  God.  But  if  wealth 
is  made  the  first  and  great  object  of  life,  then 
all  is  wrong,  and  when  the  man  comes  to  lie 
where  Mr.  Osborn  now  lies,  his  wealth  will  in- 
deed be  only  a  curse  to  him,  however  much  he 
may  have  been  nattered  or  envied.  Wealth 
has  indeed  its  peculiar  temptations,  and  they 
are  great;  but  so  much  greater  will  be  the 
reward,  if  they  are  resisted  and  overcome. 
It  is  not  an  easy  thing,  in  any  station  or  em- 
ployment, to  keep  the  heart  right,  and  the 
aims  pure ;  but  it  must  be  done,  in  some 
good  degree,  if  we  would  make  life  a  bless- 
ing, and  secure  the  end  for  which  it  is  given. 


82  PAINSTAKING. 

It  is  a  most  important  thing  for  one  starting 
in  life  to  see  this  point  clearly,  and  first  to 
make  sure  of  life's  great  end,  or  preparation 
for  the  life  to  come." 

Giles  felt  the  force  of  the  remarks  dropped 
by  this  judicious  Christian  gentleman,  who 
had  improved  the  opportunity  afforded  him 
to  make  observations  which  he  hoped  might 
be  timely  and  useful  to  his  young  com- 
panion. He  saw  clearly  that  his  dreams  and 
plans  for  the  future  had  been  wholly  selfish 
and  ambitious,  and  had  diverted  his  mind 
from  earnestly  seeking  those  objects  which 
were  of  the  greatest  moment  to  him,  as  an 
immortal  being. 


PAINSTAKING.  83 

YIII. 

FAITHFUL  INSTRUCTION. 

THIS  incident  in  his  journey  made  consi- 
derable impression  upon  the  mind  of  Giles, 
and  imparted  a  somewhat  new  aspect  to  life 
and  life's  work.  This  impression,  however, 
might  have  proved  transient,  had  it  not  been 
deepened  by  subsequent  events. 

The  Sabbath  after  his  return  Giles  found 
that  the  Sabbath-school  class  of  which  he 
was  a  member  had  a  new  teacher.  This 
teacher  was  James  Bliss,  who  was  spending 
the  summer  at  home,  and  had  taken  charge 
of  the  class  for  that  period. 

James  Bliss  was  an  earnest,  devoted  Chris- 
tian. His  words  went  to  the  hearts  of  his 
pupils,  because  they  came  warm  from  his 
own  heart.  There  was  soon  a  marked  change 
in  the  general  appearance  of  the  class.  The 
careless  indifference  of  their  usual  deportment 
gave  place  to  serious,  and  sometimes  tearful 


84 


PAINSTAKING. 


attention.  Jonas  and  Giles  were  both  mem- 
bers of  this  class,  and  both  soon  became  im- 
pressed by  the  truths  so  earnestly  and  kindly 
altered  by  their  youthful  teacher. 

But  the  impressions  made  on  the  Sabbath 
were  too  often,  apparently,  effaced  during  the 
week.  There  were  strong  counteracting  in- 
fluences, tending  to  this  result.  Though 
Giles  was  only  a  lad,  his  heart  was  even  now 
full  of  worldly  ambition.  He  knew  that,  if 
he  would  become  a  Christian,  he  must  relin- 
quish many  fondly  cherished  desires  and 
hopes.  His  conversation  with  the  gentleman 
who  had  so  kindly  offered  him  a  seat  in  his 
buggy  had  clearly  shown  him  that  the  ac- 
quisition of  property  was  not  inconsistent 
with  true  and  devoted  piety  ;  but  it  had  also 
as  clearly  shown  him  the  Christian  principle 
by  which  this  acquisition  must  be  governed. 
But  Giles  had  many  selfish  and  ambitious 
desires  to  gratify,  which  were  altogether  in- 
consistent with  this  principle.  That  bright 
vision  of  future  wealth,  which  his  youthful 


PAINSTAKING.  85 

and  ardent  fancy  had  painted,  was  robbed  of 
all  its  charms  when  he  thought  of  wealth 
only  as  a  talent,  lent  by  the  Lord,  to  be  faith- 
fully employed  in  his  service.  Young  as  he 
was,  his  proud  and  ambitious  heart  wished 
to  think  of  life  as  a  theatre  on  which  he 
might  carry  out  many  a  splendid  scheme  of 
self-gratification. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Giles  fully 
comprehended  the  state  of  things  in  his  own 
heart,  or  was  ready  to  acknowledge,  even  to 
himself,  his  real  unwillingness  to  become  a 
Christian.  The  heart  of  man  is  deceitful 
above  all  things,  and  the  heart  of  Giles  Den- 
ney  formed  no  exception  to  this  universal 
rule.  He  thought  that  he  honestly  wished 
to  become  a  Christian,  and  was  truly  seeking 
to  be  one.  He  was  not  sensible  that  he  was 
at  heart  so  opposed  to  the  reigning  principle 
which  governs  the  life  and  actions  of  the  true 
Christian,  that  nothing  but  the  almighty 
power  and  grace  of  the  infinite  God  could 
make  him  even  willing  to  embrace  this  prin- 
8 


86 


PAINSTAKING. 


ciple.    This  grace  of  God  lie  was  not  seeking 
with  his  whole  soul. 

James  Bliss  was  for  a  time  much  encour- 
aged by  the  interest  manifested  by  his  class, 
especially  by  Jonas  and  Giles.  But  as  week 
after  week  passed  away,  he  was  pained  to  see 
that  no  real  progress  was  made  by  either  of 
them,  and  he  began  to  fear  that  it  should 
prove  in  their  case  that  the  seed  had  been 
sown  by  the  wayside.  The  time  for  his  re- 
turn to  the  city  was  drawing  near,  and  it 
made  him  very  sad  to  think  of  leaving  his 
class  without  seeing  one  member  of  it  saving- 
ly benefited  by  the  truth  he  had  earnestly, 
faithfully,  and  prayerfully  presented  to  their 
minds  on  each  returning  Sabbath.  He  deter- 
mined on  a  week-day  to  seek  an  interview 
with  Giles  and  Jonas.  For  this  purpose,  one 
Saturday  afternoon,  he  called  at  Mr.  Ford's 
and  invited  the  boys  to  take  a  walk  with  him. 
The  invitation  was  gladly  accepted ;  for  their 
young  teacher  had  quite  won  their  hearts. 
James  soon  led  the  conversation  to  the  sub- 


PAINSTAKING.  87 

ject  of  religion,  and  told  them  how  ardently 
he  desired  to  see  them  become  sincere  Chris- 
tians. 

In  reply,  Giles  assured  him  that  he  wished 
for  nothing  so  much  as  to  become  one. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  intend  to  say  any 
thing  not  strictly  true,"  replied  his  teacher ; 
"but  are  you  sure  that  you  are  not  deceived 
in  this  matter  ?  It  may  be  that  you  do  not 
wish  to  become  a  Christian  so  much  as  you 
suppose.  I  know  that  you  are  a  boy  not 
afraid  of  painstaking,  and  that  you  are  will- 
ing to  work  hard  to  obtain  any  object  on 
which  you  have  set  your  heart.  My  sister 
has  told  me  how  you  earned  the  shawl,  which, 
at  her  request,  I  purchased  for  you  in  New- 
York  ;  and  how  cheerfully  you  walked  many 
weary  miles  to  obtain  that  five  dollars.  I 
know,  too,  by  the  manner  in  which  you  recite 
your  Sabbath-school  lessons,  that  you  are  a 
painstaking  scholar.  How  long  would  you 
work  over  a  problem  in  arithmetic  before  you 


88  PAINSTAKING. 

would  ask  your  teacher  to  tell  you  how  to  do 
it?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Giles ;  but  I  have 
more  than  once  worked  two  hours  upon  a 
hard  sum." 

"  That  was  the  right  principle  on  which  to 
act  It  showed  that  you  were  thoroughly  in 
earnest  in  your  efforts  to  master  this  science. 
But  have  you  ever  given  equal  evidence  that 
you  were  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  seeking  the 
grace  of  God  ?  Did  you  ever  at  any  one  time 
spend  two  hours  in  serious  thought  about  your 
soul's  welfare  ?" 

Giles  confessed  that  he  never  had. 

"  I  think  this  shows  that  it  is  not  your  hon- 
est choice  to  become  a  Christian." 

Giles  looked  as  if  he  thought  this  an  un- 
warranted assertion. 

"Let  me  try  to  make  this  point  clear,"  said 
James.  "Our  efforts  to  obtain  any  object 
that  we  really  desire  will  be  in  proportion  to 
the  value  and  importance  of  that  object.  You 
might  not  be  moved  to  any  very  earnest  ef- 


PAINSTAKING.  89 

forts  by  the  prospect  of  earning  a  single  dol- 
lar ;  but  if  I  could  put  you  in  a  way  to  earn 
a  hundred  dollars  before  school  commences 
next  fall,  such  would  be  your  appreciation  of 
the  value  of  this  sum,  that  you  would  throw 
your  whole  heart  and  soul  into  the  work  of 
obtaining  it.  Now  the  grace  and  favor  of 
God  is  of  such  priceless  value,  that,  if  we  truly 
desire  it,  we  must  desire  and  seek  it  with  our 
whole  hearts. 

"  I  remarked  that  I  thought  it  evident  it 
was  not  your  honest  choice  to  become  a  Chris- 
tian. I  used  the  word  choice,  because  there 
is  a  distinction  between  a  desire  and  a  choice. 
For  instance,  you  may  for  many  reasons  desire 
to  spend  the  next  winter  with  your  mother 
and  sisters,  while  it  is  still  your  choice  to 
spend  it  with  your  uncle  Ford,  on  account  of 
the  advantages  to  be  gained  by  so  doing. 
"Were  I  to  inquire  about  it,  you  would  not 
tell  me  that  you  chose  to  spend  the  winter  at 
home.  However  much  you  might  desire  the 
8* 


90  PAINSTAKING. 

society  of  your  mother  and  sisters,  you  would 
distinguish  between  desire  and  choice. 

"  Now  I  think  this  illustration  will  show 
your  present  position  in  regard  to  becoming  a 
Christian.  You  doubtless  desire  many  of  the 
things  you  would  gain  by  becoming  a  Chris- 
tian :  such  as  the  favor  of  God ;  the  assurance 
of  escaping  the  terrible  doom  of  the  sinner ; 
and  the  promise  of  a  home  in  heaven ;  and 
you  mistake  these  desires  for  the  honest  wish 
to  become  a  Christian.  But  while  you  desire 
these  things,  you  still  more  desire  to  continue 
in  the  indulgence  of  your  present  sinful 
thoughts,  wishes,  and  purposes ;  and  this  is 
really  your  soul's  choice.  This  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  you  do  not  with  your  whole 
heart  seek  to  become  a  Christian.  You  could 
not  choose  so  great  a  good  without  using  your 
most  earnest  efforts  to  obtain  it,  regarding  no 
amount  of  painstaking  as  too  great  to  secure 
an  object  of  such  infinite  value." 

Giles  could  not  deny  the  truth  of  these 


PAINSTAKING.  91 

statements.  He  saw  that  lie  had  taken  up 
with  a  general  idea  that  he  wished  to  become 
a  Christian,  while  such  was  not  his  heart's 
choice. 

"  If  what  our  minister  says  is  true,"  remarked 
Jonas,  "I  can't  see  the  use  of  all  this  pains- 
taking in  religion.  He  says  that  we  can  not 
change  our  own  hearts,  or  make  ourselves 
Christians." 

"What  he  says  is  quite  true,"  replied  his 
teacher.  "  Almighty  grace  alone  can  so 
change  our  hearts  as  to  incline  us  to  choose 
God  for  the  portion  of  our  souls,  his  service 
for  the  work  of  life,  and  his  favor  for  the  re- 
ward of  life.  His  grace  alone  can  conquer 
our  pride  and  unbelief,  and  lead  us  to  Christ 
in  humble  faith.  But  this  does  not  prove 
that  we  have  no  work  to  do.  The  same 
great  Teacher  who  said,  ( No  man  can  come 
to  me,  except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me 
draw  him,'  has  also  said,'  Strive  to  enter  in  at 
the  strait  gate.' " 


92  PAINSTAKING. 

They  were  at  this  moment  passing  a  fine 
field  of  corn. 

"Look  at  that  corn-field,"  said  James. 

"  It  looks  finely,"  said  Jonas.  "  Mr.  Brown 
has  the  finest  field  of  corn  in  the  place." 

"  I  should  think  so.  Mr.  Brown  is  an  ex- 
cellent farmer.  He  does  his  part  faithfully. 
But  after  all,  how  small  his  part  is !  He  could 
not  cause  a  single  ear  of  corn  to  grow.  How 
little  the  seed  he  planted  resembled  what  we 
now  see !  If  God  had  not  given  vitality  to 
the  seed,  Mr.  Brown  might  just  as  well  have 
planted  pebbles  as  seed-corn ;  but  Mr.  Brown 
had  nothing  to  do  with  making  the  difference 
between  stones  and  seed-corn.  After  the  corn 
was  planted,  if  God  had  not  sent  down  upon 
it  the  dew  and  rain  of  heaven,  all  the  labor 
bestowed  upon  the  field  would  have  been  in 
vain. 

"Xow  suppose  Mr.  Brown  had  reasoned 
that,  as  his  work  was  so  small  and  subordinate 
a  part,  and  so  useless  without  the  blessing  of 


PAINSTAKING.  93 

God,  he  would  not  break  up  the  ground  and 
sow  the  seed.  What  if  he  had  reasoned  that 
there  was  no  use  in  taking  so  muoh  pains, 
and  working  so  hard,  when,  after  all,  he  could 
do  so  little,  and  God  must  do  so  much? 
What  if  he  had  sat  still  on  the  plea  that  it 
was  as  easy  for  God  to  do  the  whole  work,  as 
so  large  a  part  of  it  ?  Or  what  if  he  had  de- 
termined not  to  break  up  the  ground  so 
thoroughly,  and  sow  the  seed  so  faithfully, 
and  keep  it  so  clear  of  weeds ;  depending  on 
the  power  of  God  to  supply  his  deficiencies  ? 
Do  you  think  if  he  had  reasoned  and  acted  in 
this  way,  he  would  have  gathered  in  such  a 
harvest  as  he  now  seems  likely  to  do  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Jonas ;  "  but  no  man 
ever  reasoned  in  that  way." 

"Not  about  farming,  certainly,"  said  James; 
"  but  very  many  have  reasoned  in  this  way 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  They  wait  for  God 
to  convert  them  without  using  the  means  he 
has  appointed  for  their  souls'  salvation.  They 
do  not  read  their  Bibles  with  careful  attention 


94  PAINSTAKING. 

and  prayerfulness,  and  seek  the  Lord  with 
their  whole  hearts.  And  yet  it  is  as  true  in 
the  kingdom  of  grace  as  in  the  kingdom  of 
nature,  that  man  has  his  work  to  do,  and  will 
be  blessed  only  in  the  doing  of  it.  God  has 
said :  '  Ye  shall  seek  me  and  find  me,  when  ye 
shall  search  for  me  with  all  your  heart.' 
Painstaking  to  secure  worldly  blessings  is 
certainly  commendable;  but  we  are  unwise 
indeed,  if  we  suffer  our  diligence  and  pains- 
taking to  terminate  here. 

"  If  a  man  were  going  into  a  distant  country 
to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  life,  and  it  were 
in  his  power,  during  his  journey  thither,  to 
make  such  arrangements  as  would  secure  him 
a  pleasant  home,  furnished  with  every  comfort 
and  luxury  during  the  years  spent  there ;  you 
would  consider  him  very  unwise,  were  he  to 
devote  his  attention  entirely  to  securing  a 
pleasant  journey  thither,  and  neglect  to  make 
any  provision  for  the  comfort  of  himself  and 
family  in  their  future  home.  Especially,  if 
these  provisions  must  be  made  during  their 


PAINSTAKING.  95 

journey,  or  not  at  all ;  would  you  not  regard  his 
folly  as  very  great,  if  all  his  painstaking  were 
bestowed  to  make  the  journey  comfortable, 
while  the  future  was  unprovided  for  ?  Much 
greater  is  the  folly  of  those  who  are  travelling 
to  eternity,  and  who  spend  all  their  care  and 
labor  to  render  the  journey  comfortable,  while 
they  neglect  those  provisions  for  their  future 
well-being  which  must  be  made  during  the 
journey,  if  made  at  all.  I  entreat  you,  my 
dear  young  friends,  not  to  be  guilty  of  this 
folly.  Be  diligent  as  you  will  to  gain  the 
treasures  of  this  world,  but  be  sure  that  your 
greatest  diligence  is  employed  to  lay  up  trea- 
sures in  heaven." 

Giles  was  much  affected  by  this  conversa- 
tion. It  helped  to  show  him  where  he  stood. 
Truly  he  had  not  taken  the  greatest  pains  to 
secure  the  best  things. 


yf>  PAINSTAKING. 

IX. 

THE  PRAYER-MEETING. 

"THERE  was  a  prayer-meeting  appointed  for 
the  next  Wednesday  evening,  at  a  house  half 
a  mile  beyond  the  village,  and  a  mile  from 
Mr.  Ford's ;  Giles  knew  that  his  teacher  would 
be  there,  and  probably  conduct  this  meeting ; 
and  he  determined  to  attend  it.  When  the 
hour  arrived  for  setting  out,  there  were  black 
clouds  in  the  west,  portending  a  violent  thun- 
der-shower. 

"Come,"  said  Giles  to  Jonas,  " let's  go  to 
the  meeting." 

"I  did  intend  to  go,"  said  Jonas,  "but  I 
think  there  will  be  a  hard  shower." 

"That  need  not  hinder  us,"  said  Giles. 
"  Don't  you  remember  how,  last  winter,  we 
used  to  go  through  snow  and  rain  to  the 
lyceums  and  grammar-schools  ?" 

"  I  believe  I  won't  go,"  said  Jonas ;  "  I  dare 
say  it  is  going  to  rain  very  hard." 


PAINSTAKING.  97 

"I  shall  go,"  said  Giles. 

'  You  had  better  not,"  said  Jonas. 

"I  shall,"  said  Giles  earnestly  and  firmly. 
"  If  I  can  go  to  grammar-schools  in  the  rain, 
I  can  go  to  prayer-meetings.  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  will  at  least  take  as  much 
pains  to  seek  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  as  I  do 
to  seek  the  things  of  this  world." 

When  Jonas  saw  that  Giles  was  resolved  to 
go,  he  stood  in  the  door  for  a  moment,  un- 
decided as  to  his  own  course.  But  he  soon 
turned  back  into  the  house,  saying:  "  I  think 
I  will  not  go.  It  looks  too  much  like  a  hard 
shower." 

Perhaps  this  very  moment  was  the  turning- 
point  in  the  life  of  Jonas.  The  Spirit  of  God 
had  for  weeks  been  striving  with  him,  yet  at 
this  critical  period  he  declined  taking  as  much 
pains  to  go  to  the  prayer-meeting  as  he  had 
done  the  winter  before  to  go  to  the  grammar- 
school,  the  same  distance  in  the  opposite 
direction.  Doubtless  many  souls  have  been 
lost  by  similar  decisions.  The  dew  and  rain 
9 


98  PAINSTAKING. 

of  heaven  is  falling  upon  them ;  the  Spirit  is 
striving  with  them  ;  but  they  will  not  in  ear- 
nest put  their  own  shoulders  to  the  work. 
They  do  not  strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate ;  Jesus  has  died  to  save  them,  the  Spirit 
has  condescended  to  enter  their  dark  and  sin- 
ful hearts ;  but  they  will  not  make  one  earnest, 
honest  effort  for  their  own  salvation.  From 
that  hour  Jonas's  serious  impressions  gradually 
left  him.  Probably  he  was  never  again  so 
near  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  on  that  eve- 
ning. 

Giles  went  to  the  prayer-meeting.  Hast- 
ening his  steps  as  he  saw  the  clouds  rapidly 
rising,  he  reached  the  house  before  the  rain 
began  to  fall  powerfully.  Owing  to  the  show- 
er, only  a  few  were  present ;  but  it  was  a 
precious  and  solemn  meeting.  After  meeting 
Giles  walked  home  with  his  teacher  as  far  as 
his  father's  house.  His  religious  impressions 
were  deepened  by  that  meeting  and  by  his 
conversation  with  his  faithful  teacher  on  their 
way  home. 


PAINSTAKING.  99 

When  James  Bliss  returned  to  New- York 
in  the  early  autumn,  he  was  cheered  by  the 
hope  that  Giles  Denney  had  chosen  for  the 
business  of  his  future  life  the  service  of  his 
Redeemer. 

As  months  passed  on,  Giles  found  that 
much  of  seeking  and  striving  was  required, 
not  only  to  enter  but  also  to  walk  in  the  narrow 
way.  But  he  took  his  habits  of  painstaking 
with  him  into  the  new  service  in  which  he 
had  enlisted;  and  here  he  found  them  of 
priceless  value.  His  soul  was  not  as  the  field 
of  the  sluggard,  grown  over  with  briers  and 
thorns,  but  it  was  as  a  watered  garden.  His 
motto  still  was,  Don't  be  afraid  of  painstaking  ; 
but  to  it  he  had  added,  Be  sure  you  take  the 
greatest  pains  for  the  best  things. 

Giles  remained  with  his  uncle  a  year  longer. 
At  the  expiration  of  this  period,  he  felt  that 
it  was  time  for  him  to  decide  upon  his  future 
course.  His  pastor  urged  him  to  become  a 
minister ;  but  Giles  could  not  see  his  way 
clear  in  that  direction.  Though  a  diligent 


100  PAINSTAKING. 

scholar,  lie  had  no  special  inclination  for  a  life 
of  study.  He  also  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  aid 
his  mother  and  elder  sister,  who  were  working 
beyond  their  strength,  and  to  assist  in  the  ed- 
ucation of  his  younger  sister.  He  might  be 
mistaken,  but  he  thought  he  had  a  talent  for 
the  acquisition  of  property  in  the  mercantile 
line ;  and  he  believed  that  he  might  honor 
God  as  a  Christian  merchant,  if  his  heart  were 
but  devoted  to  his  service. 

Giles  was  soon  strengthened  in  the  convic- 
tion, that  this  was  the  path  of  duty  by  receiv- 
ing, from  a  merchant  of  New- York,  the  offer 
of  a  situation  in  his  store.  This  gentleman 
had  often  visited  L.  during  the  summer,  and 
had  gained  sufficient  knowledge  of  Giles's  in- 
dustrious, painstaking  habits,  to  lead  him  to 
believe  that  he  would  be  a  valuable  assistant 
in  his  business. 

Having  gratefully  accepted  of  this  unlooked- 
for  offer,  Giles  in  a  few  weeks  entered  upon 
the  duties  of  his  new  and  untried  situation. 
He  was  now  in  the  path,  which,  by  the  bless- 


PAINSTAKING.  101 

ing  of  God,  might  lead  to  the  wealth  he  had 
once  so  coveted;  bnt  he  entered  this  new 
path  with  desires  and  purposes  very  different 
from  those  he  had  cherished  three  years  be- 
fore. Should  wealth  ever  be  his,  it  was  his 
earnest  purpose  to  regard  it  as  a  talent  lent 
by  the  Lord,  to  be  used  for  his  glory.  It  was 
still  a  cherished  object  of  pursuit  to  secure  a 
home  for  his  mother  and  sisters ;  for  he  was 
more  than  ever  dutiful  as  a  son,  and  kind  as 
a  brother.  But  very  different  were  his  plans 
of  life,  from  what  they  had  been  when  he  sat 
under  the  shade  of  that  maple-tree  by  the 
way -side.  He  now  saw  that  all  those  air-cas- 
tles had  been  temples  dedicated  to  the  worship 
of  self,  and  that  life  should  have  a  purpose  in- 
finitely nobler  than  the  mere  acquisition  of 
property. 


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